More Than a Dream
by The Incredible Nameless Wonder
Summary: The first book in my Just Dreaming series, this tells the story of Annika, a young woman living with a horrible disorder who is given a copy of The Phantom of the Opera Novel. Things get strange when she wakes up outside of the Opera Populaire, but she dismisses it as just a dream. She panics when she finds she can't wake up and begins to wonder just why she's there. Erik/OC.
1. Chapter 1: The Book

**A/N: Hello everybody! I'm here to bring you a Phantomy story! I love PotO, and I think that Gerard Butler is incredibly handsome, but I found his deformity not very... deformed. I will be cranking the deformity level of awesome up to ten-billion, and for those still reading; thou hast been warned. Take it away Sixty!**

Sixty: The Incredible Nameless Wonder does not have the rights to The Phantom of the Opera or any of the characters included in the book or films. This is published for entertainment purposes and don't sue her because she jail is a sick and boring place. Not to mention how humiliating it would be to go to jail for writing fanfiction anyway...

**Me: Anyway, on with the story and for anybody who wants to know how my OC's look, please go to my profile, where they are listed along with my other stories. Enjoy!  
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**_More Than a Dream_**

**_Chapter One: The Book_**

Isn't it funny how a dream can change your life, and possibly the world?

History is based on dreams of glory, and everybody has a dream, I was no exception. Back when I was younger, I had a dream of being free, a dream that swept me off my feet and took me on an adventure with parts that I'd love to forget, but even more parts I hope to remember forever.

Are you still reading? Good, I'm quite glad; I assume you'd like to hear my story, yes? Well, by all means, I will tell, but I warn you, some of it may be very hard to believe...

* * *

"Well Annie, how are we feeling today?" I looked up from the white, tiled floor to my therapist with sleep-deprived eyes. It had been years since I'd gotten a decent sleep, who could anyway? What with the screaming and all.

"The use of 'we' in that sentence is somewhat emotionally non-neutral and bears a condescending, somewhat ironic nature, doctor." I replied and a smile of bewilderment lit up her face. Her brown hair was done up in a bun, with spectacles in front of her beautiful green eyes. She was single-handedly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, but her mind was even prettier than her face.

"Whatever you say, Ann." She said, sitting down on her chair while I just sat on the bare floor, tugging my white hospital gown down so it covered my knees. She absentmindedly fiddled with her pen, clicking it and taking out her clipboard, jotting down the date and looking to the clock on the wall for the time. "How has Sixty been?" She asked and I shrugged.

"She says hi." I told her carelessly with a shrug and she lifted an eyebrow, another smile coming onto her pink lips.

"Does she now? And how do you know that?" She questioned and I turned to look at the empty wooden chair in the corner of the room.

"Because she's sitting in the chair over there." I replied casually, waving to Sixty, my best friend for life, if you could call my existence that.

She was unearthly beautiful, with soft, wavy hair that didn't really have a colour and vibrant purple eyes. She was terribly kind to me, and gave me hugs when the mean doctors upped my medication doses, but I knew she wasn't real, and it was upsetting to know that she was just a figment of my imagination.

She waved back, smirking at Dr. Hendrix, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Dr. Clara Hendrix looked at me with a shocked expression and then to the chair where I knew she couldn't see a damn thing. Mom used to tell me that no one saw what I did because I was special, now my 'specialness' had a name, and it's called schizophrenia.

"Well, tell her I say hello too then." Dr. Hendrix told me and I nodded. "So" She paused, fiddling with her pen, suddenly she seemed nervous. "How is Sycamore?" I tensed when she mentioned my other friend.

"She's… she's…" I stopped, my rage growing as I tried in vain to calm myself down. I" DON'T WANT TO TALK!" I shouted suddenly, standing up and running over to the chair and sitting down beside it. I was very angry with Dr. Hendrix for mentioning her. Sycamore is the second of my three friends, and she was the only one I wished would go away more than anything.

Sycamore was the reason I was in the loony home after all, she was the one that condemned me. Her hair was midnight without stars, her skin was paper with no drawings, her mouth was blood and her eyes were like Hell fire, burning into my soul. She'd talk to me when I was asleep, whisper things in my ear. Bad things. She'd tell me to hit and scratch and bite or worse and I'd have to listen, I'd have to. You don't make Sycamore angry… you just… don't.

"I'm sorry Annika, I didn't mean to upset you but we need to talk about her." Dr. Clara Hendrix said in a gentle voice. I shook my head; I hated to talk about Sycamore, and I especially didn't want to talk to someone who had no idea what it was like. "Come back here, I have a gift for you." She said in a singsong voice that, while irritating, peaked my interest.

"What is it?" I asked carefully, standing up and taking a step in her direction. Dr. Hendrix smiled at my interest and reached into her purse, pulling out a black-leather book. I couldn't read what was written in the silver font on the front because of the distance, but I loved novels very much. I took another few steps closer and was able to make out the title.

"It's called _The Phantom of the Opera_; I bought it when I was around your age." She told me with a big smile, holding the book out to me. I took it hesitantly, touching the cover with wide eyes and a gentle hand. I opened it up and flipped to a random page, reading what was written.

"Poor, unhappy Erik! Shall we pity him? Shall we curse him? He asked only to be 'someone,' like everybody else. But he was too ugly! And he had to hide his genius or use it to play tricks with, when, with an ordinary face; he would have been one of the most distinguished of mankind! He had a heart that could have held the entire empire of the world; and, in the end, he had to content himself with a cellar. Ah, yes, we must need pity the Opera ghost..." I trailed off, my eyes widening further. I looked up to Dr. Hendrix, who had a far-away look in her eyes before coming back to earth and giving me a smile.

"Do you like it?" She asked quietly and I nodded, looking back to the book. "Then it's yours." She said and my mouth fell open in surprise.

"Really?" I asked my anger with her for mentioning Sycamore fading as I wondered just what this book was about.

"Mm-hmm. Think of it as a goodbye present." She said, her eyes falling to the ground. A smile that I didn't know was on my face fell and I cocked my head to the side, my curiosity growing.

"Goodbye present, Dr. Hendrix? What do you mean? The session's barely over!" I corrected and she didn't say anything right away.

"The hospital is moving me to a different premise's. I don't want to leave you Annika, but I have to, today is our last session." She said in a soft voice and suddenly, the anger returned.

"So you're just going to go?!" I shouted, resisting the urge to knock her block off. "You're just going to leave me here, I though you said I was your friend!" Blind rage built up inside me and I wanted to scream and kick and tear the world away. Yes, Dr. Hendrix didn't _really _understand me, but she was real, she was a friend and she was _real_. She meant a lot to me, more than I think even she knew, and the idea of her leaving was impossible to deal with.

"I know you're upset, Annika, but there's nothing I can do!" She exclaimed in a desperate voice, trying to get me to calm down. "I tried to convince the Warden, but you can't make her do anything she doesn't want, I'm sorry." She said, this time quieter. The anger dulled to sadness as I fought back tears. I was a big girl, almost seventeen, and big girls don't cry, that's what Dad always told me.

"I don't want you to leave." I said in a dull voice and she nodded, sighing and taking out a tissue from her breast-pocket. She dabbed her eyes and lifted her gaze to the ceiling so her mascara wouldn't run. I'd never seen anybody cry before, and after she did, I never wanted to again, it's horrible to see somebody so sad, and no one should ever be that upset.

"I'm sorry, Annika, I don't usually get this emotional, but I am going to miss you." She told me and I nodded in agreement.

"I'll miss you too, I guess." I replied and she gave me a soft, sad smile.

"Read the book, my dear, and think of me when you get the chance, okay?" She asked and I nodded again, moving a little closer.

"We still have fifteen minutes, Dr. Hendrix, you don't have to leave." I said and she smiled brighter.

"I could read the first few chapters, if you'd like." She offered and I smiled back at her, making room on the floor for her to sit down. She joined me and took the book, turning it open and inhaling.

"Let's do this." I said, making her laugh as she began to read.

"It was the evening on which MM. Debienne and Poligny, the managers of the Opera, were giving a last gala performance to mark their retirement. Suddenly the dressing-room of La Sorelli, one of the principal dancers, was invaded by half-a-dozen young ladies of the ballet, who had come up from the stage after "dancing" Polyeucte. They rushed in amid great confusion, some giving vent to forced and unnatural laughter, others to cries of terror. Sorelli, who wished to be alone for a moment to "run through" the speech which she was to make to the resigning managers, looked around angrily at the mad and tumultuous crowd…" Dr. Clara Hendrix read the first paragraph I was completely hooked, she read on for the rest of the time we had together before putting it done and giving me a hug, telling me that she had to go. She stood up and she walked out the door, and I never saw her again.

I think of her often, as she told me to, `and wonder if she ever did get married to her fiancée; William, and if she ever had any children, if so, how many and what she named them. I never forgot my first real friend, but it was on the night that she fled my life that everything would change, and I owe it all to her.

* * *

That night, I stayed up and finished the whole book from cover to cover for her. I would read parts, while Sixty would read others and in the end, both of us were sobbing hysterically. But still, despite the sadness, the story was magical, and I found I could relate.

Erik, the Phantom of the Opera was alone in the world, and while I had Sixty, she wasn't technically alive. Most of the time, she was never around anyway, and I had to deal with the screaming from the patients whose condition was much worse than mine paired with the dizzying medication that did help my temper. My temper was now pretty much supressed for all eternity and while certain things could set me off, it was nowhere near as bad as six years ago when I was ten.

I shan't bore you with the details of my experience where I tried to kill my physical therapist, although it is a rather entertaining story involving a filing cabinet, a mouse and a pencil, but that was a very, very long time ago and while I did enjoy trying to murder someone, I can't say I'm proud of it.

I looked to the window when I heard a rustling noise and a smile broke out on my tear-stained face. I stood up from the bed and rushed over, throwing open the panes of glass and allowing my third and final friend into the room.

"Goblin!" I cried happily as he flew in over my head, landing on the bedpost. Goblin was the only animal friend I had, and he took the form of a large barn owl, with a huge wingspan. When he spoke –and yes, he could speak- he talked with a strange, yet beautiful British accent.

"My dear, dear Annika, how have you been?" He asked and I shrugged.

"Dr. Hendrix is gone, the hospital moved her." I told him sadly and he made a sympathetic noise.

"Oh, how tragic, I rather liked her, she was quite beautiful." He said in a faraway voice, making me giggle.

"Oh Goblin, you and your damned beauty! It just so happens that I liked Dr. Hendrix for her mind!" I exclaimed and the owl laughed and took off into the air again, soaring around the room before landing on Sixty's head.

"Hey! Watch it!" She shouted, shooing him away, making me laugh even harder.

"I'm terribly sorry, darling, it won't happen again." He apologized and she rolled her eyes, letting them close again as she tried to get some sleep. She assured me that the floor was fine and when I objected, she would remind me that she didn't really need a bed as she wasn't really there. This made sense to me and so whenever she would sleep over, I would take the bed as usual while she took the floor.

Goblin settled in his spot on the headboard, tucking his wings up and getting comfortable. My eyelids grew heavy as I lay down, my mind racing with thoughts of the Opera Ghost and Christine and Raoul.

"Goodnight, Sixty. Goodnight, Goblin." I said to them and they muttered back something I couldn't hear just before I let my eyes close, drifting off into one of the best sleep's I'd had in a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2: The Freezing Issue

**A/N: I have provided a full translation for all of the French spoken in this fic, and yes, there is a language barrier. Erik isn't in this chapter, but he'll be making his debut appearance in Chapter Three! Okay, Goblin, do your worst!**

**Goblin: The Incredible Nameless Wonder does not own Meg or Mme. Giry so; it behooves me to inform you that you have no case in court if you decide to take it there. **

**Me: Thanks, enjoy!**

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**_Chapter Two: The Freezing Issue_**

"Ayez Noël de houx joyeux; c'est le meilleur moment de l'année, Je ne sais pas s'il y aura de la neige, mais une tasse de bonne humeur." I woke up to the sound of people singing and bells ringing, mixed with horse hooves on a cobblestone street. I turned my head to the side towards the noise and gasped in wonder at what I saw.

A group of people in bright, old-fashioned outfits were standing in the street, singing Christmas carols in a language I didn't understand. Behind them were little shops with signs that I couldn't read lit by oil lamps and in one of the windows was a dress mannequin. I tried to sit up, and found that the reason my arms and legs were so cold is because I was lying in a snow bank!

_If I'm dreaming, why do I feel so cold? _I asked myself, but got no reply. I looked around to my right and my mouth dropped open six feet.

In front of me was a large, golden building with lovely statues and arches. It was impossibly tall, almost as tall as I dreamed the Empire State Building to be, extremely wide. A set of large French doors were set dead in the middle with a warm glow coming from underneath, illuminating the grand staircase that led to them.

From these doors, a young, beautiful girl with blonde hair lighter than mine came running out, dragging behind her a much older woman with a permanently cross look on her face and her graying hair done back in a braid. When the girl saw me awake, she squeal and ran down the steps, falling on her knees in front of me, gesturing for the older woman to come and see. The elderly lady looked surprised at my being there, just as surprised as I was, but she still ascended the stairs, towering over me.

"Vous voyez mère, je ne mentais pas!" _(You see mother, I wasn't lying!) _The young girl exclaimed; leaning forward at an uncomfortably close distance. I couldn't understand a word of what she just said, and I suppose the dazed look I gave her then made that perfectly obvious.

"Meg, vous effrayer! Je ne pense pas qu'elle parle français" _(Meg, you're frightening her! I do not think she speaks French!) _The older woman cried and the blonde-haired girl sat back, giving me some space. I didn't know I was holding my breath until she moved away. The older woman lowered herself to my height and cocked her head to the side. "Pouvez-vous me comprendre?" _(Do you understand me?) _I had no idea what she was asking, so I shook my head, making her nod.

"Qu'est-ce que les gestionnaires disent?"_(What will the managers say?) _The blonde asked in a distressed voice and again; I drew a blank.

"Nous ne pouvons pas la laisser ici, vous idiote!" _(We cannot leave her here, you silly girl!) _The woman snapped and the young girl grew silent. I wondered just what she had said, but I thought that it didn't matter, seeing as it was only a dream.

"Do either of you speak English?" I asked when I finally found my voice. And the elderly woman looked to me in surprise. She gaped at me for a solid ten seconds –I liked timing things- and then she finally spoke in heavily-accented English.

"I speak a bit, but not much." She replied and I was so happy to hear something I actually understood after close to ten minutes of 'what the hell did she just say' and 'is she secretly mocking me' that I almost did a happy dance.

"Oh thank the Lord!" I cried, throwing my hands to the sky. I stood up and felt wet fabric on my legs, making me look down and finally realize that I was in a green dress that did not belong to me. It was sopping wet and in a very old style, with a gown-style bottom and beautiful embroidery.

"My name is Mme. Giry, and this is my daughter, Meg." She said and my eyes widened.

"Hold on a second, Giry? Did you just say Giry?" I asked, bewildered and she nodded hesitantly. I wanted to ask 'from the Phantom of the Opera?' but something told me not to, and so I held my tongue.

"Yes, why?" she asked and I was left to improvise.

"Um… well… because… you're the ballet Mistress, right?" I was safe. A wave of understanding passed over her face and she nodded, looking proud. In truth, I was proud of myself for evading her that way; I knew it was just a dream, but telling her the truth felt wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.

"I am, and who are you?" She asked, pride in her voice and my mind froze for three seconds.

"My name is Annika Walters. I-I'm from Canada." I said and she looked confused.

"What is a Canadian doing here, in front of the Opera house?" She asked suspiciously and I gulped.

"I d-don't know." I stuttered, my teeth chattering from the cold. It was freezing outside, but this little detail seemed lost to Mme. Giry.

"You don't know?" Meg piped up, again in heavily accented French. Her English was worse than her Mother's and it hurt Annika's ears to hear.

"No, it's a blur. A total blur. I know I'm from Canada, I know I speak English, I know my name and I know you're the ballet Mistress. Other than that, a total blur." I bluffed and the two seemed to buy it. It was then that Mme. Giry realized to the cold and looked to me in shock, an apologetic look in her eyes.

"Oh mon dieu!" _(Oh my god!) _She exclaimed, looking to my sopping dress that had begun to freeze. "My girl, why didn't you say anything? Come inside, quickly, we shall talk then!" She said frantically, taking me and Meg by the hand and dragging us both up the steps and into the Opera house.

By then, I was coughing up a lung, and my head felt like it was on fire. Mme. Giry sat me down on a lobby seat and I hugged my knees to my chest, closing my eyes, trying to warm up. I'm shaking all over when I feel something being draped over my shoulders and I look up to see Meg with a blanket. I pull it tighter around me and give her a nod of thanks as Mme. Giry runs off to find the managers.

"Do you really remember nothing?" She asked in a timid voice and I nodded. Telling the truth wasn't an option, I didn't know why, but it wasn't, and I'd never been good at making up backstories that made sense, much less were believable, so pretending not to remember anything seemed like the only way.

"I can recall weird little details, like my name and your Mother's profession, but that's about it." I said sadly, trying to be convincing and the little blonde girl drank it up.

"That is so very sad, Mademoiselle, I hope you regain your lost memories." She just sounded so innocent and genuine, it almost made me laugh. I supposed that people in dreams were far more caring than those in real life.

"I do to, but given of what I remember, I almost do not wish to know." I replied in a faraway voice. "Where am I anyway?" I asked, although I already knew.

I had decided exactly seven seconds ago as we were ascending the Opera house steps that I was having a dream about The Phantom of the Opera after reading so much of it before bed, it seemed rational and much easier to explain.

"Why, Mademoiselle, you are in the Opera Populaire! She exclaimed in a way that I took as her wanting me to applaud or something.

"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" I asked rather harshly and her smile fell. I instantly felt bad about it and apologized, after which she perked up a bit to give me the lo-down.

"The Opera Populaire is the most prestigious Opera House in all of Paris! If you can survive La Carlotta, the dancing is fabulous and some of the stagehands are quite handsome." She suddenly sobered and shook her head. "But stay well away from Joseph Buquet, he is rubbish! You'll know him, he's the short, portly man who will try to look up your skirt!" Meg said this all in one breath and I knew she was not kidding, but I guess she did mean it to be funny, I mean, I laughed.

"Is he truly that horrid? Dear God what have you left me with?" I asked to the universe and she giggled.

"You are so odd, Mademoiselle." She exclaimed and I nodded, doing a strange sort of dance as my body was racked by a hybrid of shivers and a coughing fit; all at the same time. Meg didn't have time to add anything else for at that very moment, Mme. Giry returned, with two hapless look men trailing behind her.

One looked ancient, with gray hair and a dated tuxedo while the other looked younger, but still middle-aged. His hair was slicked back like Elvis and his strange, blue tuxedo was much more recent in style, it seemed, and was free of any rips or tears.

"Ici, elle est Monsieur." _(Here she is, Monsieur) _Mme. Giry announced and the two managers looked completely dumbstruck.

"Dieu du ciel! Où est-elle venue?" _(God in heaven! Where did she come from?) _The older-looking manager cried and I winced at the incredibly high octave he hit.

"Nous ne savons pas, nous l'avons trouvée en dehors de la maison d'opéra." _(We do not know we found her outside the Opera house) _Mme. Giry replied and by that time, I was totally lost. I looked to Meg for a translation but she shook her head in a way that told me she didn't know the English for the spoken words.

"Will somebody please tell me just what the Hell is going on?!" I asked loudly, pulling Mme. Giry and the Managers from their quiet little side-fight. Mme. Giry's mouth formed a line as she came and sat down next to me.

"Cette fille est de mourir de froid et elle a de la fièvre. Elle se souvient de rien de sa vie et que vous souhaitez la chasser! Vous êtes pathétique!" _(This girl is freezing to death and she has a fever. She recalls nothing of her life and you wish to turn her out! You are pathetic!) _Mme. Giry sounded very angry when she said this and it kind of scared me. The younger-looking manager approached me and kneeled down in front of me, getting closer than Meg and scaring me very much.

"Quel est votre nom?" _(What is your name?) _He asked like a question and Meg translated that.

"He asks your name, Mademoiselle." She clarified and I nodded, turning back to him.

"My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my Father, prepare to die." I couldn't help but laugh at the Manager's dazed expression when I quoted the Princess Bride - a very good book given to me by one of the guards at the hospital- but Mme. Giry just shook her head and told him my real name.

"Elle me dit que son nom est Annika Walters. S'il vous plaît Monsieur, elle a besoin d'un médecin, il suffit de regarder sa!" _(She tells me her name is Annika Walters. Please Sir, she needs a doctor, just look at her!) _Mme. Giry felt my forehead and she quickly withdrew as if she had been burned.

My face did indeed feel like fire had touched it, and I'm sure it was just as red. My coughing returned at full-force and for a second, I couldn't breathe. I felt the wind being knocked out of me as I clutched my throat, trying to concentrate on getting oxygen to my brain. As another coughing fit racked my body, my vision began to blur. I tried to fight it, but soon it overcame me and I blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3: The Opera Ghost

**A/N: Hello! It's time for Chapter Three! Erik doesn't have a large part in this chap, but he's officially in the story! I like this chapter quite a bit and I hope you do too, thanks to my Phantastic reviewers and those who added this to their favourites/alerts list! I really hope you like this chapter!**

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**_Chapter Three: The Opera Ghost _**

I remember nothing after I lost consciousness, but when I came to, I was alone in a dimly-lit room, lying on a cot with a blanket drawn up to my neck. I was really cold as the window was open - part of me wondered what great genius did that- and I had begun to shake again when Sixty danced out of nowhere.

"You've been out for a long time, girl." She said in her faint Valley-Girl accent and I gave her a smile.

"How long?" I inquired and she rested her chin on her hand, thinking.

"I'd say at least eight hours." She replied and I groaned.

"Then why am I still here? I didn't know you could black out in dreams." When I said this, she bubbled up with laughter like I'd told the best joke in the world. "What?" I asked testily and she shook her head, her laughter fading.

"You still think it's a dream?" She asked and I nodded, making her burst into another fit of giggles. "Girl, I may lie all the time, but just so you know, this is not a dream!" She exclaimed before standing up and fading away. I groaned as it made me frustrated when she just left without any warning. It was then I heard the sound of wings flapping and I looked to the window, smiling lightly when Goblin flew in.

"I could've sworn that they left the window closed when I left." He mumbled under his breath before hopping off the window sill and onto the floor. He had a slimy, black mass clenched in his talons and my heart started beating faster. Noticing my distress, Goblin attempted to reassure me. "Oh don't worry, dear, it can't hurt you." He told me gently but I was still afraid.

"I don't like Sycamore's Things." I said in a shaky voice as he gobbled up the large, black rat in one gulp.

Allow me a moment to explain, if you will, for it has come to my attention that not everybody knows just what a Thing is. Well, remember when I told you how I had three 'friends' that never change? Good, you remember. Anyway, I also had many 'acquaintances' that changed as often as can be, some only being seen once, and others coming back after years of lying dormant.

Things were basically this, except that there were a large number of them, and they were always, always black rats. Sycamore was the person who commanded them, and they were usually my punishment if I failed to comply with the tasks she gave me. I'm still deathly afraid of Things and the imaginary pain they put me through.

They can speak, but when they do, I don't want to hear it. Their voices are a hiss, like a vile snake that makes my ears bleed and the things they say are so horrible. They told me bad things, like Sycamore bad but not quite. They tell me what they'll do to me if I don't listen to Sycamore, and it's what scares me the absolute most.

Goblin likes to eat them when he can. He's my knight in feathered armour when he does and he saves me from their voices, but in the dead of night when he is far away, the come for me and I am alone. Lately, they've not been around and you won't hear me complaining, but it only makes me more afraid of when they come back.

"Must you eat that in front of me, Goblin?" I asked with disgust as he cleaned his talons.

"I apologize. In the future I will take great care in staying as far away from you when I feast on a Thing, my dear." He told me with a smile. Goblin is a good friend; I knew I was very lucky to have him.

"Thank you." I replied and he nodded. Suddenly, I sat up, still feeling like Hell, but way more alert. "Disappear." I told Goblin and he did so when I heard a creaking noise. "Who's there?" I asked. I got no reply, but I knew someone was watching me.

My hearing has always been fantastic, and it was thirty-five seconds after I asked when I heard the sound of retreating footsteps, so light it would take years to be that graceful, but they were distinct against the silent backdrop. I felt the feeling of being watched recede as I attempted to find sleep again, but my heart was racing too fast for I knew who was there. The Phantom of the Opera.

I wanted to meet him more than anything, but I was also quite scared. This man was a murderer, a cold-blooded murder who hung people from a bloody Punjab lasso! I forced myself to calm down, and even tried to get Goblin to come back to no avail. I tensed a little bit when he didn't fly through the window like he always does.

That's when I heard it. The sound that I hoped I'd never hear again.

Allow me to cut in again, I do apologize but this part of my story does bring up a rather strange point. Many of you may be wondering just how I am able to differentiate between what my warped mind conjures up and reality and for the most part, I have trained myself to do so. My 'friends' – the Perm's as I like to call the ones who stick around for a long, long time and the things alike- are always fuzzy around the edges, and whilst most of them look like real people, they have a blurry aura that gives them away. Also, the noises they make are a tip-off, as they sound hollow and empty, like someone is shouting down a long corridor.

Anyway, back to my story. Where was I? Oh, yes, thank you.

The sound was dull, low and ringing off of the fabulous acoustics in the room. My heart stopped beating for a millisecond when I hear her voice in my ear.

"Persis, my darling Persis…" I cringed at Sycamore's name for me. She never called me Annika like my other 'friends' did. Even the Things called me Annika but no, she called me Persist, but she never told me what it meant.

I tried to tune her out, honestly I did, but when I did not reply immediately, a searing, clawing, biting sensation erupted in my brain. I howled in pain and clutched my head, trying to make it go away but it didn't, not for close to sixteen seconds.

"That's a warning Persis." She whispered, but did not come out. I knew she was hiding from me, and this was no surprise considering I'd only ever seen her once in a dream. She was too cowardly to show herself, she didn't like talking to me face-to-face, she preferred to linger in my mind where I couldn't fight back.

"What do you want?" I asked but only another scratch to my brain was her reply.

"You know very well what I want, Persis! What have you done!" She shouted so loudly it almost broke my ear drums.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed out loud. I'd never been very good at keeping the conversations in my head.

"You must have done something! Where is the hospital?" I didn't know the answer to her question and it seemed to displease her. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FORYOURSELF?!" I didn't know how else to reply, so I said what I did and I'm glad that I said… er- thought it, while I still had the courage to do so.

"Burn in Hell!" Was my response and just as I was preparing for another scratch, the door on the far wall was thrown open and Sycamore fled my mind in a puff of smoke. From behind the door, Meg burst along with a gaggle of giggling girls in poufy white dresses.

"Vous voyez! Elle est bien réelle!"_(You see! She is real!) _Meg cried to the hoard of girls behind her and I was very thankful that they didn't hear my little argument with Sycamore.

"Come on Meg, play fair, speak English!" I exclaimed and she laughed, moving closer to me. The other girls just stared blankly, but one laughed along with the blonde.

"I am sorry Mademoiselle, how rude. I wanted to show you to my friends, however. This is Giselle, Colette, and Lynn." She introduced and the three nodded. I looked to the left at the girl who laughed and gave her a smile. She had curly brown hair and a beautiful face.

"Who is she?" I asked and she smiled back.

"My name is Christine Daae." The girl said in perfect English with just the hint of an accent in a feather-light voice. She was so beautiful; it was hard to hate her for breaking the Phantom's heart.

"My name is Annika." I replied and she nodded.

"You're quite the source of gossip; there isn't a ballet rat who doesn't know your name." She told me with a grin. I couldn't believe that I was all that interesting, but I guessed that dreams were what you made them to be. I didn't have time to say more because, as if on command, my stomach rumbled and I realized just how hungry I was. Meg seemed to have heard it because she immediately flew into action.

"Lynn, délabré à la boulangerie à la fois, obtenir de meilleurs croissants Mme. Havisham et dépêchez-vous de retour!" _(Lynn, run down to the bakery at once, get Mrs. Havisham's best croissants and hurry back!) _Meg said in an orderly voice and the girl early complied, fleeing the room without thinking twice. I caught the word croissant, and needless to say, I was pleased.

"Hey, Meg, where am I?" I asked and she cast me an apologetic look.

"You're in one of the spare costume rooms, Annika. Nobody ever goes in here and the Managers, well, the new ones anyway, wanted you to stay far away from everyone after the doctor's diagnosis." She explained and I cocked my head to the side.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"You have a nasty cold from being outside so long. Last night Mama came in and changed your dress." She told me and I nodded, folding my hands in my lap.

The girl, Lynn, was back in ten minutes and I happily munched on a croissant while the other ballerina's gossiped about La Carlotta. Five seconds later, her voice floated up from beneath me. I almost screamed at how bad it was, truly it was awful.

"That sounds like a cat if you stretched it out on a rack and mated it with a duck then chucked it off the tip of the Eiffel Tower!" I exclaimed and while 95% of the girls didn't get it, Meg and Christine laughed.

* * *

That night, I heard the noise again, the one like footsteps. I opened my eye and turned my head, looking towards the door but I saw absolutely nothing but utter blackness with a bit of light from the full moon spilling into the room. I tried to go back to sleep when I heard it again. When I turned my head to the side again and opened my eyes, I almost gasped in surprise.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, thin man in a black suit and cape, with a white mask hiding one half of his face. He looked so handsome, even in the half-light with glittering eyes and gelled hair.

I longed to speak to the famed Opera Ghost, the one that I'd shed so many tears for but my voice refused to behave. He lifted a white-gloved finger to his lips in a form of silence and I nodded, closing my eyes and attempting to fall back asleep as he ordered.

When I dared take another peek again, the Phantom of the Opera was there no more, and in his place was an empty doorway.


	4. Chapter 4: Notes from Nobody

**A/N: No, Erik doesn't get to speak yet, but she meets him while she's fully conscious, so that' a step-up, right, right, RIGHT!**

**Sixty: Geez-Louise, girl! Calm down, you'll get there!**

**Me: I know but I want it now!**

**Sixty: Patience, you'll write it soon! Enjoy this chapter!**

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**_Chapter Four: Notes from Nobody_**

The next morning, my back was stiff from sleeping weird and it hurt to turn my neck. I groaned a little and shifted, trying to get some feeling back to no avail. I finally just sat up, my back cracking as I rubbed my eyes and stretched as I usually did. I couldn't believe that I still hadn't woken up, but anything was better than the hospital and the Warden.

I didn't like the Warden. She was old and crabby, like a bent-over stick in the mud. She would call me names like 'crazy girl' and 'nut-job', which I found to be terribly rude of her, but I never had the guts to say anything to her, but man, did I ever dream about it!

I looked to the chair in the corner of the room and spotted a very pretty white dress with blue trim. It just barely fit as whoever this was owned by was much thicker around her middle than I was. Either way, it was beautiful, and I felt beautiful in it. I didn't feel as drained as I did the previous day, and I was tempted to do a bit of exploring when my habit kicked in.

I sauntered over to the bed and began making it as we were ordered to do each morning and just as I picked the pillow up to fluff it and lay the dull, brown blanket over top, a note fluttered down from the pillow case.

It was on parchment thicker than my walls back 'home' at the hospital and the pale paper was edged with black. In the center, keeping the top down was a red-wax skull. I carefully opened it, making sure not to damage the wax imprint as I found it seriously cool, and pulled out a note that was folded in half. I unfolded it and read over the note, which was done in loopy, beautiful print that wasn't exactly feminine, but still very pretty.

_My Dear Newcomer,_

_Welcome to my Opera house, may you enjoy your stay. Speak with Mme. Giry about my rules and I shall have no reason to harm you. A word of advice, ear plugs are recommended when La Carlotta 'preforms'._

_May your health return swiftly,_

_-O.G_

I smiled when I read the note and I knew I would definitely be getting some of those ear plugs that he mentioned. I tucked the note into my dress pocket with another big grin and decided that exploring would be best. I reached up and let my brassy-blonde hair out of its messy bun and realized that I had no shoes.

"Damn it all!" I hissed to myself before realizing that I was in the middle of a costume department. I picked up a random pair of blue shoes with a small heel and pulled them on. I ignored the corset as I did previously when I was getting dressed on the way out and let the door close behind me as I went off down the hall.

I hummed along with the music as I descended a flight of stairs. I stopped halfway and took off my shoes as I went down the steps, letting my bare feet touch the soft, red-velvet carpet. It made me smile again as I reached the bottom where my feet were met with cold marble, so I hastily returned the shoes to their proper place and sped off again towards the stage where the music was coming from.

I burst through the doors with a face-splitting grin just as Carlotta hit the highest note. I grabbed my ears and almost screamed but the orchestra conductor beat me too it when three men walked onto his stage, apparently uninvited. I walked down the aisle and hopped up the steps onto the stage to hear the speech.

I recognized Elvis and Grizzly, the two new managers from the day before, but the third man, who looked much nicer, was new.

"As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement." The third man spoke in perfect English and while some looked confused, a few ballet rats whispered the translation.

I heard Carlotta make 'I was right' noises as the new man, and evidently old manager raised his hand to silence her while I snuck around everybody else to stand beside Christine and Meg. Both looked worried to see me, but their attention was called away when the old manager, M. Lefevre spoke again

"I can now tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, M. Richard Firmin and M. Gilles Andre. I'm sure you've read that recent fortune in the junk business-" The man was cut off my M. Grizzly, whose suit was more respectable today, but his gray hair was still a frizzy mess.

"Scrap metal, actually." He snapped testily and I rolled my eyes.

"He must be rich…" I heard one of the ballet rats whose hair was bleached blonde and her face caked with make whisper. She was obviously already plotting her seduction of them and it made my nose wrinkle.

"And we're deeply honored to introduce our new patron, the Vicomte de Chagny." Elvis announced proudly and the King of the Fop's stepped forward with his feminine features, weird hair and pimp cane to casually flirt with Carlotta.

"It's Raoul." Christine said, almost as if she couldn't believe it. Meg looked just as shocked. "Before my father died, at the house by the sea, I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts, he called me Little Lotte." She said in a dreamy voice and I gave her a 'what?' face.

"Dear God, why?" I asked and she just shook her head.

"Christine! He's so handsome!" Meg squealed in her broken English and I rolled my eyes again, feeling very annoyed with the way they were behaving.

"My parents and I are honored to support all the arts. Especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire" Raoul stated after a round of applause and as much as I disliked the fellow, I was glad that he had good taste, even if Christine didn't.

Carlotta coughed as if trying to get some attention, and walked towards the unsuspecting Vicomte, holding out her hand, a huge, plastic grin breaking out onto her olive-skin that was painted mostly gold.

Carlotta was a beastly woman, with olive Italian skin and dull brown eyes. She would prance around the stage like a spoilt pony whose rider didn't have the heart to whip some sense into – not that I supported animal abuse, but in Carlotta's case, she could do with being taken down a few pegs- and let it run wild! She claimed she could sing when she couldn't hit a single note no matter how hard she tried and good God that woman did try!

"Gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli our leading soprano for five seasons now." M. Lefevre introduced and the aforementioned woman held out her hand for him to kiss. I could almost hear Christine growl when his lips barley brushed over her gold-painted hands and I couldn't blame him, who the hell wants paint that's probably riddled with lead-traces on their mouth?

"Five seasons too long." I whispered to Meg and Christine, who burst into a fit of giggles behind their hands as not to be noticed. Piangi, a portly Italian man who was wearing more face-paint than his ridiculous lover was introduced as well before the Vicomte left and I finally got to see Christine and Meg dance.

They both moved with such fluidity, like they didn't have any bones that needed to bend. They were up on pointe for most of it and they made it look painless, which I knew was a lie. Some of the other girls in the hospital used to be dancers and they told me of how painful it was on your toes to go on pointe for such a long time. If it hurt, Meg and Christine didn't show it at all, they leaped and spun with such grace that it made me a little jealous.

I followed with the new Mangers and Mme. Giry as they commented on Meg's beauty, much to her Mother's disgust. They fawned over everybody, if I recall, it was quite disgusting, like they couldn't get laid any other way.

"Friend, listen to me, everyone you see in this room, every ballet rat, every soprano, every stagehand, is jailbait. I am very sorry to tell you this, but… it's true." I watched with a smirk as Grizzly's face fell and Elvis looked crestfallen. I didn't know the rules in ye old Paris, but I'm pretty sure that if they slept with any of the girls, they'd be facing some issues.

I didn't seem to be the only one who noticed that the new Managers had their eyes on the 'dancing girls' as Carlotta called them, and she made such a fuss over it too, like she really wanted pervy attention from two very old -yet desperately trying to look younger- strangers!

Firmin and Andre got their first crash-course in Diva-Meltdown-Reversal, or DMR, and they seemed to do fine, as the attention-whore caved in and agreed to sing a song after a brief crying fit.

As soon as the first notes escaped her lips I wanted to scream for her to stop. I just couldn't deal with how she butchered the beautiful song while the Maestro tried so hard to disguise the hideousness of her voice by playing up the base. I was able to slip away, but Andre and Firmin were less lucky, they got front –row-seats to a show nobody wanted except for the weird maids that were probably paid handsomely to cheer whenever Carlotta's name was mentioned.

The wood creaked under my weight as I ascended high above the stage where the drunken stagehands were snickering about Carlotta's botched singing amongst themselves. Some of their jokes were rather explicit, but they were quite funny. When their laughs became to boisterous, I moved away into the shadows where the scenery was kept up.

I heard a creaking from somewhere near me that was not my own, I know because I was not moving. It was so quiet that the stagehands who were just ten feet away couldn't hear. I knew who it was, and truth be told, I was waiting for him.

He emerged from the shadows, not at all surprised to see me standing there and I gestured to the mess of ropes that were keeping the set piece up. I looked behind me to see that the man I took as Joseph Bouquet was busy laughing and I bad him to come over.

"Cut it." I whispered to his still form. "Cut it and if my luck holds, it will fall on her." I hissed and I swear I almost saw the Opera Ghost smile, but it was gone in an instant. I took the hint when he didn't move and ran off back down to the stage, pulling Christine and Meg out of harm's way just as the set piece crashed to the ground, almost trapping Carlotta under it but she managed to wriggle free, even with her huge, red dress.

_So close. _I thought as she began to scream again about the Opera Ghost just as another of his notes fluttered down from the rafters. Mme. Giry told the Mangers about the Phantom's rules and they were… less than happy about them, whist I took careful mental notes.

Meg goaded Christine into singing when Carlotta stormed off and the Manager's mouths dropped open three-feet with mine. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard in my life! In the book, Erik described her as an Angel, and now I knew why, she was an Angel; there was no way that anybody who could sing like that was a mortal, no freaking way!

Christine blushed at the positive feedback to her song and she was soon dragged away by the costume department to have her fitted for her dress, as she was thinner than Carlotta, leaving me and Mme. Giry.

"Why are you up, Annika, the doctor said-" I cut her off with a look and sighed, pulling out my note.

"I have a legitimate reason as to why I'm not resting, Mme. Giry. I have specific orders from a ghost to talk to you about the rules." I told her as she read my note, a dull laugh escaping her scowling lips that sounded very foreign.

"Very well, the Phantom of the Opera haunts this Opera house, Mademoiselle, and if you leave him be, he will have no reason to hurt you, as he says here." She stopped for air before continuing. "There is one rule he asks for all to follow, as you are not a Manager; don't go down below, it's as simple as that." She told me and I nodded.

"Don't go down below, got it." I paused, puzzled for a moment before looking at her retreating form. "When will I know if I go down below?" I asked and she shrugged, not turning to look at me as she left the theater.

"When you feel his lasso around your neck, Mademoiselle, you will know."


	5. Chapter 5: Her Plan

**A/N: Hello! In this chapter, things get… odd. I hope you enjoy it, and review if you please! I'm really starting to kind of like Love Never Dies; I think I need therapy and possibly heavy narcotics. You guys tell me what you think of the sequel nobody wanted!**

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**_Chapter Five: Her Plan_**

"Isn't this just fab?!" Sixty cried, waving her arms about like a maniac as I tried to make myself look presentable. Tonight was the gala, the night that Christine got her big break, and I was so excited that it made me want to jump around even higher than Sixty.

The dress of course was the reason I couldn't. I'd been digging about in the cupboards in my room, trying to find something to wear, as Mme. Giry had said that I would be sitting with the Manager's in box six, perfectly adjacent to the mysterious box five.

I finally threw open the final set of drawers, expecting something skimpy or short that was intended for the ballerina's, but instead, I was greeted by the sight of a beautiful, yet very old-looking golden ball gown.

It was simple, made of gold-coloured fabric with no embroidery or details, but it would have to do, as there was nothing else. It was covered in a thick layer of dust, but I brushed it off and tried it on, finding it to be a bit tight, but still wearable,

A cracked mirror was found behind a panel of wood and a quick look at my reflection was all it took to realize that my hair needed help. I brushed it out with my fingers and twisted it every which way, trying to get it to behave when Sixty appeared, closely followed by Goblin.

"It is wonderful, isn't it my darling Sixty, our baby girl is going to her very first party!" Goblin cried, flying about the room as I tore a piece of fabric from one of the older costumes to tie my hair back with in a ponytail. I looked as simple as my dress and I knew I didn't belong anywhere near an opera, but I was going to have to face the music sometime, and speaking of time, I didn't have much of it.

"Oh lord!" I shouted when my nerves reached their peak. Sixty gave me a worried glance and a hug to calm me down, which didn't really, help, but I wasn't about to tell her that.

"Here." She said, showing me how to tie my hair. "Keep your bangs out of your eyes, pretty blue peepers like that aren't made every day!" She told me with a grin that I supposed was to make me feel better. It almost worked, it really did, and when I tied it like she showed me to, I looked a little bit better, but still, I didn't feel right.

I stood up and sighed, smoothing out of dress and fixing my hair, trying to find some accidental way for everything to fall into place. That didn't happen as I put on the blue shoes from before that didn't really go with the dress, and stepped away from the mirror.

"I look okay if you tilt your head to the side, close both eyes and imagine a pretty blonde girl in a boring dress." I said dully and Goblin laughed.

"You're not boring, dear. You've got… well you've got a wonderful personality!" He said, fumbling over the words as I rolled my eyes.

"I look drab, but I guess or will have to do. I don't know how old this dress is though, it seems very out-of-date." I said, smoothing the skirt.

"Well, it was covered in a layer of dust thicker than the polar ice caps." Sixty reminded me and I nodded sadly, brushing away and last specks of dirt from lack of use.

I sighed loudly and closed my eyes, taking deep breath and letting my shoulders relax. "You, know, I'll be sitting with Grizzly and Elvis tonight." I said, trying to calm my nerves by spouting useless information.

"Oh, they don't speak English, right?" Goblin asked and I shook my head.

"They're apparently conversational, according to Meg, that is, by I'll bet a pound to a penny that they'll just use it to talk about me behind my back." I replied with a huff and Sixty giggled.

"You'd better learn you're French then, girl!" She squealed, jumping off of the armoire she sat atop. I smiled at her excitement, knowing how much she wanted to go to, but she knew that she'd just be a distraction for me.

Sixty and Goblin are good to me, they don't come out when other people are around, so I can focus and not have to worry about accidentally looking at something not there. Sycamore didn't really come out at all during the day, but she would come out sometimes in physical therapy back 'home' in the hospital to try and get me in trouble.

"Actually, Sixty, it seems that dear Annie must be going, or she'll be late." I looked to the ancient grandfather clock on the far wall and almost shrieked; I had five minutes!

"Fuck my life!" I shouted, sprinting towards the door, nearly falling down the stairs as I ran into the front foyer that was packed with people; beautiful and old alike. They sneered at me and my lack of diamonds, as literally every single woman was drenched in them completely, but I was too nervous to worry about that, I had bigger fish to fry.

I pushed through the crowds of people that buzzed into the lobby like flies and felt my anxiety grow. I never liked crowds and in all honesty, I hadn't been exposed to them to the length at which it was now. Pawing through the hoard, I finally was able to pick out Elvis and Grizzly, who looked rather annoyed at my lateness.

"There you are!" Was all I was able to pick out from Elvis's –better known as M. Firmin's- terrible English. Grizzly –who also went by the name of M. Andre- warbled in French about my lateness, making me feel worse than I already did at how underdressed I was.

The Managers were obviously displeased with my attire, as they shot me a nasty glare as we ascended to their box to watch the show. I didn't speak any Italian, so I had no idea what the show was going to be about, but I guessed it had something to do with a man named Hannibal who… did something cool in his life… maybe.

Christine, of course, was magical on stage. She belonged there, I could tell, and the managers were drowning in their own drool when during a particularly raunchy scene. Then came the pivotal point, the last song, the part that would decide if she was more than just a pretty face, and my mind it still blown, even after all of these years.

She glided out on stage, a million tiny, white flowers woven into her silky brown locks, her face free of the eyeliner, lipstick, and gold paint that Carlotta insisted on. She wore a sparkling white dress that exposed her shoulders and hugged her tiny waist while the skirt spilled out at her hips and brushed the ground. Everyone was floored at her appearance, but when she opened her mouth, something magical happened.

A hush fell over the ground as the Maestro began to play and the beautiful chorus girl started off wonderfully, hitting the first notes of the lovely song in the upper register with the greatest of ease. During the middle of her aria, I glanced over to box five, where I could make out the faintest outline of a man in the darkest cloak and suit imaginable.

The Phantom's skin was pale white against the dark curtains, and even from here, I could see a beaming smile of love and pride on his thin lips. I knew why he loved her; she was simply perfect for Lord's sake, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, knowing that she didn't love him back.

The song ended and I found myself glancing to box seven across the theater to see the King of the Fops, or KotF as I called him back then, stand and leave, most likely rushing to Christine's dressing room to be the first to greet her. I couldn't help but smile as the Phantom left as well with a flourish of his cape to beat the Vicomte to it.

Everybody stood up and applauded when Christine hit the very last note with perfect ease, of course I had to make the spectacle and shout the like a crazy person, whistling and screaming 'bravo', mainly because it's a fun word to say. Christine beamed and waved at me gracefully as she curtsied and the curtains closed. Firmin and Andre were stunned, especially after they doubted her so, and I couldn't help but laugh at their astonished faces. Why they ever cast Carlotta in the first place was a mystery to me.

I waited until the masses exited before walking down the steps slowly, taking everything in. Was it magic that I was here, or was my Mom, whom I'm sure is sitting up in heaven, watching out for me. Perhaps she sent me this dream, if that's what it was, as an apology for letting Father lock me away from her. Maybe this is real, maybe I died that night Dr. Hendrix left and this is my heaven.

It's not much of a heaven is Sycamore's here though. I reminded myself with a sigh as I reached the floor of the theater, sitting down in the nearest red velvet seat. I didn't want to go back to my room, not where Sycamore could find me, I didn't want to go to the after-party either, I didn't work here, I'd be booted out for sure, Hell, I didn't even want to have a solitary, drugless rave with Sixty and Goblin! I just didn't have it in me; I had to sort out what was going on first.

I didn't have time, as you could probably guess, as now that I was alone, they came out to play.

"Snip, snip, snip, follow me, follow me." A voice whispered in my head, a voice I hadn't heard for some time.

"Scissor's now is not the time." I said out loud as a little girl in a pink dress with white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes stepped out from behind the curtain. She had a singsong voice like music in my ears. She was one of the Things. She was a human Thing, which was rare, as most of them were rats, but she was a girl, and she could be nice, if she wanted to be. Her name was Scissor's, and she was not to be messed with.

"You don't want to play with Jinx?" Another voice asked and another girl, a few years younger with fiery red hair and emerald eyes cried, swooping down from the rafters and I shook my head. Jinx was Scissor's sister, they were attached at the hip, and wherever they went, their Mother followed.

"Play with my little girls, Annie; they only want to make you smile." A sultry voice said to my immediate left and I turned my head to come face-to-face with Shock, a sultry, pale woman with blood-red lips and black hair with a large, white streak running down the middle. She always dressed in a long, black ball gown and was the closest thing I had to a Mother-figure since I was admitted to the hospital. These three disappeared, and the longest time they left for was six years, claiming they'd gone to Hawaii to get the color back into Shock's skin.

I believed that like I believed that I could fly if you threw me from a high enough distance.

"Not now, Shock, I have to sort out my life!" I said loudly and she nodded.

"Oh, I see, you don't know what's happening then?" She asked and I glared at her.

"Le duh! Care to enlighten me?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Actually, Annie dear, I much prefer this; it's very entertaining to see you like this." She said matter-of-factly and I growled at her.

"Mummy, that's not fair to her!" Jinx said and Shock shushed her.

"Please, Jinxie-bell, just let her figure this out on her own, she'll be seventeen in a few months!" Shock scolded her daughter.

"Snip, snip, snip, Mummy can't we just tell?" Scissor's asked and Shock shook her head.

"No, she doesn't need to know about her plan just yet, my little dears, come along now; we've kept Annie long enough." She said, flashing over to her girls on the stage, taking each of their hands and vanishing without a trace.

I really had no control over when they left, so it didn't bother me like when Goblin and Sixty just left, but still, what did Shock mean by 'her plan'? I didn't know; my only hope was that it would be uncovered soon enough.

I stood again and decided to explore some more. I crossed over the theater floor until I came to the staircase that led to box five. I took each stair at a time, a bit afraid of what I might find in the Phantom's box. I reached the curtain that separated me from the seating area and took a deep breath, slowly pulling it back.

Behind it was the most fabulous view of the stage I'd ever seen, it really was the bests eat in the house, no wonder Erik liked it so much. I sat down in the chair that looked as though the Phantom widely ignored it, as he didn't want to be seen and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I breathed in as my heart rate accelerated for some reason and thought I almost smelled something like expensive French cologne, but it was gone before I got the chance to really know.

I shrieked out when I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped around, pulling the arm off of me. I stopped short and gasped for air when I realized it was only Joseph Buquet, the stagehand Meg warned me about.

"You shouldn't be up here." He growled, his breaths smelling like alcohol, probably from the bottle that he held in his hand. "This is his box." I nodded, icy fear flooding my veins and he reached out to grab my wrist.

I jerked back and he narrowed his eyes. "I know, I was just leaving, I have people I need to see." I said, trying to push past him, but he caught me by the shoulders, pushing me back down on the seat.

"You may see them, but I don't, no one does you demon bitch!" He said in a low, frightening voice. I was starting to panic.

He heard me, oh God, he heard me! I shouted in my mind but my voice refused to work as he clamped his hand around my throat and lifted me a few millimeters off the floor.

"Let… go…" I wheezed, but he only gripped tighter, making me squeak as he crushed my air pipe, making it impossible for me to breath.

"Listen to me, demon bitch, you stay away from this place and spread your evil somewhere else!" He became louder and began to back up, still holding onto my throat.

I tried to scream as we neared the banister. Tears welled up in my eyes when my back hit the balcony ledge and he leaned in, whispering in my ear.

"Go back to Hell." And with that, he lifted me up and drew back, ready to chuck me over the side.


	6. Chapter 6: Rescue Mission

**A/N: Hi people! I take it that you don't like my cliff-hangers? Well, I'm sorry you guys, they are necessary. Please enjoy this chapter and before we start, take it away Shock. **

**Shock: The Incredible Nameless wonder owns nothing from this Phandom; she is only a Phan who really likes this story. **

**Me: Cool, here we go!**

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**_Chapter Six: Rescue Mission_**

"It's true Mme. Giry! She just vanished!" Raoul burst into the empty theater with Mme. Giry behind him and Buquet hissed in annoyed way, drawing back just as quickly and throwing me down onto the seat with as much force as he could. My heart was beating so very fast I thought I'd die of a heart attack as I processed what could've just happened.

I put hand over my chest to try and slow down my essential organ as he ducked out of sight behind the curtain so only I could see him. Facing me with anger in his eyes as the ballet Mistress and Vicomte argued below the two of us on the floor, he leaned in close to that the two wouldn't hear before letting a frightening smirk curl up on his lips. My mind was racing and my cheeks were red and wet with tears as I tried to get my breathing to go back to normal but it was shallow and rapid, like a squirrel, making it hard to get the needed oxygen to my brain, but I just couldn't concentrate!

"Tell anyone; and this" He paused, reaching into his shirt pocket, pulling out a small knife one might use for self defense and brandishing it in front of me in a menacing way. "And you'll feel this sliding between your ribs." I was shaking so hard that I just nodded and didn't bother trying to scream for help. He nodded in what would've been a gentlemanly way if he had not been giving me a horrible death glare and exited the balcony as the Vicomte shouted at Mme. Giry from down below one last time before storming off to God knows where.

My vision grew hazy and began to swim before my eyes and for a second, I thought I would lose consciousness. But just when I was about to faint, I heard something that jarred me back to reality.

"The Phantom." The words were spoken in a horrified and completely paralyzed manner by none other than my almost-murderer; Joseph Buquet. I didn't hear any strangled sounds of death or anything like that, just hurried footsteps in the other direction. They sounded drunken and graceless, so I knew it wasn't Erik, he let the scumbag live.

I sat up a little bit, fixing my dress that had begun to ride up my legs when the Phantom in question stepped from behind the curtain.

I'm pretty sure that my heart stopped for real.

I took one look at him standing in front of me and that was all the push I needed; I collapsed from my sitting position onto my back and fainted dead away. I felt someone come closer to me before fully losing consciousness and the world faded into black.

I didn't know where I was when I woke up; everything was too dark to see. I opened my eyes and found that I the darkness left and I realized that I was back in my room, gray and dismal. I rubbed my eyes and turned my head to the side, cracking my neck before wincing in pain and reaching a hand to the skin there. It hurt to touch, but I couldn't see why, so I stood up slowly and made my way over to the mirror, a hand flying to my mouth at the sight of my reflection.

The golden dress that I was wearing was ripped in places, my hair was a horrible mess, and finger-shaped bruised covered my arms. I moved my messy blonde hair out of the way and almost screamed when I saw the large, deep-purple bruises all around my neck and collarbone, accompanied here and there by scratches that look like someone clawed at the skin trying to get to the bone.

Tears welled up in my eyes again at how hideous I looked and I couldn't bear to see myself any longer. I turned away and walked over to the chair where I carefully folded the blue dress I was allowed to borrow. I hung the golden dress back up in its dark closet, giving it an apologetic pat for the rips that Joseph Buquet made. I felt bad that it would be forgotten again, but when I summed up the courage to take another look in the mirror, I found that I didn't look as homeless with an intact dress.

I noticed a white basin with a lovely rose design on the side on a table that I didn't know was there before, and I made quick use of it, washing the grime from my face and hair that had built up over the past few days, tying my wet locks above my head with the small towel provided. I walked back over to my bed and began to make it, as I found myself doing quite often as a coping method, and stopped again when another note and a small package were found underneath my pillow.

I carefully reached down and took the note, my hands shaking as I opened the wax seal gently. The script was the same, large and loopy and beautiful, but this note was not one of welcome.

_My Dear Newcomer,_

_You should have listened to Miss Giry. Stay away from my box and Joseph Buquet, the Vicomte and ballet Mistress will not always be there to save you. Wear what I've given you until the bruises fade. _

_-O.G._

I felt a wave of shame wash over me as I realize he was right. I shouldn't have been anywhere near his box, and I shouldn't have stayed around so long talking to Joseph Buquet. I undid the black ribbon around the small parcel that was wrapped in the same snowy, thick paper edged in black that he wrote his notes on.

I opened the box and gasped when I pulled out a black, lacy choker that was big enough to hide the bruises and scratches. I walked back to the mirror and tied it behind my neck, adjusting it to conceal the injuries just as I heard a knock on the door.

I didn't have to wait five seconds before the door burst open and the while corps de ballet flooded into my room. I hid the wrapping paper and note with the other one in one of the empty drawers, trying to appear casual as poor Meg shook from fright.

"Oh Annika, c'est terrible!" She said, her English falling away and being replaced by French.

"What's happened?" I asked, foggy as to what was going on. I found my memories of the book I'd read fading away from me. It was most annoying.

"Christine... she's… she's…" Collette couldn't get the words out and it was up to Lynn to shake them out of her. "She's been taken by the Phantom!" She exclaimed, bursting into tears and crying onto Lynn's shoulder.

My mouth hung open as this part of the novel came back to me. _Oh my God. _I thought the temperature in the room increasing rapidly as I sat down on one of the old, threadbare settees.

"She's been kidnapped?" I asked again. I couldn't believe it! Well, I knew this was coming so technically I could, but it was still horrible, not so much for her, but for poor Erik, she was going to break his heart!

There wasn't much I could do about it, that I knew, but I told myself I had to at least try. I told the girl's I wasn't feeling well, and they dispersed quickly as to not catch the illness I pretended I'd contracted in the night, and Mme. Giry would be absolutely livid if they couldn't dance for the upcoming performance of Ill Muto.

I flew to the drawer that I'd explored last night, ripping it open and tossing out costumes everywhere until I found the pair of dark breeches and poet shirt that the pageboy wore in an older version of Ill Muto a long time ago.

I changed quickly, but then looked to the only pair of shoes that I could say I 'owned'. The heels had a porcelain tip for some reason that could only be explained as a 'late-1800's-fashion-mystery- and would do no good for sneaking into a secret lair. I intended to save Christine Daae and high heels just weren't going to cut it.

I grabbed a shard of glass from the cracking mirror, wincing as tiny cuts were made in the skin of my hand, before tucking it into the pocket of the breeches and heading for the door. I let my hair down from the towel and sighed, taking one last look behind me before letting the door close.

It was around lunchtime and the corps de ballet would be off eating somewhere, so I snuck into their ballet dressing room, rooting through their costumes. I opened the first drawer I saw and my nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of that particular ballerina's taste for pink tutus. The next drawer was no better, as this ballerina seemed to like blue.

The next couple of drawers were the same, all the way up to the last one, Meg's drawer. The first drawer I opened, a black tutu and corset greeted me, and sitting on top was a pair of lovely black ballet shoes. I laced them up as best I could, as I didn't really know how, and took a few steps around, smiling when no noise was made.

I spun around and landed messily, crashing into a chair knocking it over. I stood up quickly when I heard the sound of footsteps behind the door and began to panic, ducking into the armoire that was thankfully open. Lynn bounded into the room and with an annoyed groan, lifted her chair back up again.

"Kitty, what have I told you about my chair?" She asked and a small kitty-cat with white and orange fur crept out from underneath the sofa. Lynn was obviously very simple if she thought that a kitten of that size could knock over a chair like that, but I wasn't complaining, I sure as hell didn't want to be caught.

She picked up the little kitten and cooed something in its pointed ear before retreating from the dressing room, leaving me alone. I sighed and stepped out of the armoire, knowing that was way too close. I opened the door and looked down the hallway, relieved to see no one, and so I stepped out and headed for Christine's dressing room.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of pink in this girl's room, it was everywhere, from the lampshade to the rug, and it was horrible! I gagged and made my way over to the mirror, running my hands over the top and sides of the frame. I smiled when my finger hit a small switch, barely noticeable and carved expertly into the wood that was painted gold.

The mirror's glass slid open, revealing a curtain behind it that I pushed back. I gripped the shard of glass as it was my only weapon and not a very good one, but it would have to do. I turned back for a moment to grab a candle from her dressing room desk, lighting it and stepping into the dark hall behind the curtain as the mirror slid shut behind me.


	7. Chapter 7: Sneaking Like a Ninja

**A/N: Hello you guys! It's almost Christmas and I'm very, very excited! So, happy Kwanzanukahmas, a combination of Kwanza, Hanukah, and Christmas and if you don't celebrate any of those, merry holidays!**

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**_Chapter Seven: Sneaking Like a Ninja_**

Everything was dark in the hallway, the candle gave off a ghostly half-light that wasn't able to illuminate a thing, but I wasn't giving it up, it was freezing down there, and it was a good source of warmth. I shrieked a little when a rat scuttled by, but I was determined not to give up.

I jogged down a flight of steps, nearly slipping from all the water on the stairs, but catching myself with help from the wall. I sighed and continued on, down dark hallways and corridors where rats would scamper and play and eat with each other. I passed a horse's stall, and saw a lovely black horse with dark trappings. He whinnied at me, and I waved, continuing on. Horse hooves would be heard down here in a second; if the Phantom was in his lair, he'd here me coming from a mile and a half away.

I passed by as I did with all of the other things, continuing down the slick steps and across the rat-infested floor and I was quite sure that they were not Things. How someone could live like this I didn't know, how so many rats could be running amok with no one to stop them, it was almost sad.

I shuddered as I looked to the left to see a large web with a family of spider's nesting comfortably. As cute as they looked, spiders scared the crap out of me, and so I picked up my pace, walking faster than ever.

Suddenly, a great wind ripped through the corridor, chilling me to the bone and blowing out my candle. I groaned softly in annoyed surprise and began to feel along the walls; that were slick with water and filth, just like the floor.

I gasped in pain when the palm of my hand caught on a sharp piece of twisted metal that one would use for holding a sconce. The jagged edge ripped through my skin, making the small cuts I had from breaking my mirror hurt even more as my hand was suddenly covered in my blood.

It was warm and sticky, with a rusty smell like iron and oh did it burn. It was like I took my recently extinguished flame and held it to my skin, it hurt so much! I grabbed at my hair with my one good hand and ripped the piece of fabric I was using as a hair tie from my head, wrapping it around my hand and securing it tightly. It still burned as I felt along the wall, but at least the blood was no longer flowing freely.

I walked forever, down deeper and deeper into the earth. I wondered just how long this could go on before I hit the center of the world, but I never did; instead, I came to a large, misty lake. It was beautiful and glassy, like ice it was so still. I knew Christine was on the other side, I had to save her, but something was telling me to just leave.

For the life of me, I couldn't recall what happened to Christine, it was if I was actually losing my memories. I shook these thoughts away and climbed into the boat that sat on the shore, picking up the oar and wincing as I put pressure on my cut hand. I dipped the piece of wood into the still surface of the water, making tiny ripples as I pushed off from the shore and rowing towards the other side.

It was too misty to see just what was on the other side of the lake, but a dim, glowing light was there, so I knew that there must be something. It was deathly quiet as I rowed, not making a sound in case the Phantom was there, which I knew was impossible, the boat was on the wrong side if he was, or maybe he had more than one entrance.

A small part of my mind told me that he had passages all over the Opera house, how else could've he gotten behind my walls the first night I came here? I knew this part was true, as for a Phantom to be convincing I supposed one would have to get oneself around at a faster rate than a mortal man. I got sidetracked by these thoughts and accidentally hit the side of the cave when I drifted a little bit; making a thumping noise that echoed around the hollow space, amplified by the marvelous acoustics.

Unfortunately, these acoustics seemed to be working against me, as I winced and thought for sure that Erik would be upon me at any second; stringing his lasso around my neck and choking the life out of me. This did not happen however, but I remained still for some time, waiting for it to. After five minutes of utter silence once more, I began to paddle again, this time keeping my mind focused on my rescue mission.

I paddled for what felt like hours afterwards, the light growing brighter as I neared the other side. I felt as if I was passing into Heaven, even when I was as deep in the earth as Hell, but the world that the Phantom had built himself wasn't one of eternal damnation, even if he lived it; no, he built himself a paradise and as I broke through the mist and laid my eyes on it for the first time; I truly believed my theory of my being dead.

There were candles everywhere, quietly dripping wax as they floated along the water and up onto the shore in beautiful silver candle holders. The steps onto dry land were slick with perspiration, but had footholds to make it easier to step out from. The stone floor looked as though it was carved out of the rock itself, but had natural grooves that were smoothed out, making the assumption false. More candles dripped in large candelabra's and in the center of the lair; a large and magnificent organ with thick, yellow sheet-music paper littered everywhere. I stepped from the boat and gasped at the sight, drinking in the scene.

There were several crevices to the Phantom's home, and I began to explore; looking for Christine. In the first, a large chest with a lock sat and nearby a desk with fresh-cut roses in a crystal vase and a respectably-sized mirror with masks of all kinds on stands around it. One looked as though it was made from broken mirror shards, another was natural skin-toned. And one sat in the very center, menacing and scary beyond all reason; the Red Death mask.

It was full-faced and frightening, with all the attributes of a real skull, like Erik had studied one when he designed it. I reminded myself that he probably did, but I couldn't bring myself to think about where he got one from. Around the mirror were drawings of a very beautiful woman and it took me three seconds to realize that the woman was Christine.

They were done in charcoal, and while they didn't fully capture her, they were very well done and it was then that I realized just how immensely talented the Opera Ghost was. But while there were drawings' the real Christine was not here, and so I moved on, towards the red curtain that hung, covering another room-like crevice.

Behind the curtain was a wedding dress on a mannequin, a mannequin with Christine's face. It was done in paper-mache, expertly sculpted to look just like her, with a soft smile on her pink-pained lips. Despite the care and love that went into it, it repulsed me for it was also then that I realized that while Erik was talented, he was also completely obsessed.

Beside the mannequin, another desk sat with envelopes and paper edged in black, quills and a red skull wax imprinter. This was obviously where he kept his stationary set, and behind the desk, inlaid in the wall was a small likeness of the opera stage way, way upstairs through miles of rock.

Little wax dolls fashioned to look like the members of the theatre troop were there, dressed in costumes from Ill Muto, and at the very front, a likeness to Carlotta stood with her head that included the ridiculously tall Countess wig that she'd been preening over on the body of the pageboy that Christine was supposed to play, with her little wax head painted to look just like hers on top of the Countesses body.

Along the side of the little stage was a small box with another lock. I shuffled through papers until I found the key and opened it, gasping in wonder as I pulled out tiny likeness after tiny likeness.

There was Christine in her white dress from Hannibal, her ballet tutu from when she was still just a ballerina, and in her white robe. There was one of Carlotta in her ghastly, gold-drenched Hannibal costume, as well as Piangi in his costume. I dug to the bottom of the little box, and gasped when I pulled out a tiny doll with dark blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin in a blue-trimmed dress; the Phantom had made a likeness of me! I felt flattered, yet somehow a bit scared that he'd been watching me, but mostly flattered.

I turned to the right after locking box up tight just as it had been, and rearranged the papers, moving to the low bookshelf on the wall and the last thing to see in this room. I bent down and looked at the titles because as Goblin once told me; 'You can tell a lot about someone, simply by what they read.' I could hear his voice clearly in my mind, and while I'm sure that the rule he told me was true, it didn't seem to apply to Erik, because all of his books weren't in English.

I skimmed along the length of his books until I came to a very small one near the back. This one was the only one whose title I could read and I instantly knew that Erik was a good guy. On the cover of the black bound book in red letters was written the title; _Romeo and Juliet_. I adored Shakespeare, and with the amount of wear and tear this book seemed to have, apparently he did too. I replaced the book where it was and backed out of the room, turning again and bounding up some stairs before coming to the very last room.

This was the only one that had a door, which was surprisingly unlocked. I pushed it open and let myself into the bedroom. In the center, there was large and beautiful swan bed, and along with many, many, many more candles and papers littered all over the floor. The bed was unmade and Christine was nowhere to be found. My heart sank and I wondered if I even should have come down here at all. I cursed my stupidity as poor Christine was probably off somewhere else. I sighed and sat down in one the chairs, ready to give up as hot tears of guilt pricked at my eyes.

My pity party was cut short when I saw it. On a low table, so close to the ground that no chair was short enough, sat a monkey music box. It was elegant and beautiful, with its furry body covered up in Persian robes and a turban on its head, and it sat on a silver cushion. It held gold cymbals in its hands and I was almost tempted to turn the handle to see what tune it played.

I reached a shaking hand out and turned the lever, finding it easier said than done as I turned the heavy piece of metal, my injured hand hurting from having to grip it so tightly while my other was making sure I didn't lose my balance. With a creak; the little monkey began to clap the tiny cymbals it was holding together while a beautiful, tinkling melody played. I couldn't believe that such an innocent thing was sitting in the Phantom of the Opera's bedroom, and a little piece of my heart melted as I sat in his room, listening to his music box.

I felt a stab of pity in my heart for the poor man who had so much time to create all of these amazing wonders, but wasn't allowed to share it with the world because of how he looked. It almost made me cry but it was true and although I'd come down here to save Christine, I couldn't help but loathe her a little bit for hurting someone like him, even if he was a murderer.

I never heard the sound of footsteps behind me, although looking back on it now, I should have. The last thing I remember was someone clapping a cloth over my mouth that hand been soaked in a wet substance that had me falling in seconds.

Falling into the arms of Erik, the Opera Ghost.

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**A/N: In this chapter, I tried to incorporate as many different versions of the Phantom's lair as possible. Largely, it is based off of the 2004 movie, but the mirror with the different masks was borrowed from the Charles Dance mini-series made in 1990 and the bookshelf bit was from my own imagination and what I pictured the lair to look like the first time I read the book.**


	8. Chapter 8: Attack of the Rats

**_Chapter Eight: Attack of the Rats_**

I was greeted by the most horrible smell up my nose when I woke up and I was jarred from unconsciousness via smelling salts. I jerked up in the chair I had been placed in, my eyes snapping open as I felt something around my neck tighten. I looked around and got used to my surroundings and found myself to be in a circular room whose walls were made of large mirrors.

A lock of my loose hair fell into my eyes and I moved to reach up a hand and move it away but when I tried to raise my left hand, I found it to be tied down tightly to the frame of the wooden chair I sat in. The same was done to both my feet and right arm, I growled and struggled against my bonds, shifting and jerking, trying to get away. Each time I did this, something around my neck tightened. I looked to one side of the room behind me and spotted a lever. I was instantly curious as to what that would do, but my attention as drawn elsewhere as I began to plan my escape, which was basically just thrash around until the knot came loose.

Finally, I looked up after seven minutes of thrashing about to find that a noose hung from the ceiling was strung around my neck and with every pull or tug I had made, I had tightened it, making my airway smaller. I didn't care about this, and my anger at the Phantom grew while my pity for him lessened. I began to thrash around again when a voice, loud and booming was radiated around the room.

"My dear newcomer, be more cautious, you don't have much slack left. Silly young girl, getting quite angry, waiting for her sentence." I was floored for a few moments when the Phantom stopped singing, mainly due to the fact that he was singing. I didn't expect him to, but he did, how very odd.

I remained silent, waiting to see what he would do, not moving an inch. A response never came, but the next thing I knew, in a time span that could've been six minutes or six hours, a section of the room of mirrors slid away and revealed a door. In doorway stood the Phantom, his white mask gleaming against his dark cape and black tuxedo. My blood boiled at the sight of him and my anger grew.

"Let me go now." I said in a stony cold voice but Erik made no move to do so, instead, he smirked. This only made my rage grow and become more blinding.

"As the child commands." This statement drew me from my anger as he crossed the room and gripped the lever tightly, pulling the smallest bit. I shrieked at the chair I was sitting in dropped a few centimeters, pulling the rope even tighter.

"Oh my God! Stop it, stop it, stop it!" I shouted and he pulled the lever back to its original place, raising me up again and giving me breathing room.

"Why were you in my domain?" Erik asked, this time actually speaking instead of singing. Frightened tears were already streaming down my face and choked sobs wracked my body. I'd never been more afraid in my life, not even when Joseph Buquet tried to throw me from the balcony.

"I- I went to save Christine Daae." This answer seemed to throw him off guard, for he had no response to my reply, almost as if he wasn't expecting me to have a reason at all.

"Why would you do this?" He asked in a somewhat surprised but still stony voice filled with so much rage. I knew why he was asking, as I'd been at the Opera house for three days, but I had the answer to that, I'd always had.

"Because, she's my friend, and I have so few." I whispered; my voice hoarse and his gaze softened from steel-hard to rock-hard.

"You would risk your life to save a girl you barely know?" He asked and I nodded. I'd go anywhere for my friends, and even though I didn't know if Christine counted me as her friend, I counted her.

"Yes, friends save you from danger." I said and for a moment, a sad, troubled look crossed over the Phantoms face and it hit me two seconds later that I'd just insulted him.

The Phantom seemed to pull himself from his own little world before gripping the lever again. He said not a word as he pulled it a little more, and then a little more, and then he finally gave a roar of anger and pulled it as hard as he could, sending the trapdoor beneath me flying open and me falling down, down, down the rope tightening around my neck and cutting off my air supply.

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I jerked awake from the horrible, horrible dream and almost shrieked when I realized I was no longer in the room of mirrors, but back in the lair, with my hands tied behind my back and my feet together. I sat in a comfortable, red-velvet seat and across from me stood the Phantom, who had on a white poet shirt and black pants instead of a tuxedo.

His back was to me and when he register that I'd woken up by the strangled cry I gave, he reached a thin, pale hand to the table beside him and picked up his mask. I longed to see what his face looked like; but I remained still as he replaced it on his face and turned to face me with a sneer on his lips.

"Why have you come here?" He hissed in perfect English, but the nerve I had from my dream had faded as I knew this was real.

"I-I came t-to save Christine." I whispered and the Phantom's smirk turned even crueller.

"Did you? How unfortunate for you that she is no longer here." He said and my fear was momentarily replaced by anger.

"What have you done with her?!" I shouted, jerking forward and this seemed to catch him off guard, but only momentarily, for it was then that he reached to his left and picked up a length of rope with a noose at the end. He held it to the light dangerously and I shut up, shrinking back into the sofa. It seemed to please him that I was so frightened for he set the lasso down and walked closer to me.

"Miss Daae was returned earlier this morning, newcomer. Your gallant rescue plan has been in vain and has cost you your freedom." I sucked in a breath and for a moment, thought he was just kidding with me. My eyes flew to his light blue eyes, silently begging him to be lying. No emotion was on his face and I knew that he was dead serious. I let out a choked sob but my face remained dry as I let my gaze drop to the ground.

"You're going to keep me here?" I asked in a hushed voice, looking up to see him nod. "Oh Lord." Was all I could get out as I thought of life down here with him, the kidnapping ghost.

"You have seen my domain, and you have ransacked my belongings, you have sealed your own fate." I couldn't look at him, I couldn't bear to; I kept my head down as I let sobs wrack through my body, mourning the loss of my freedom quietly.

"No…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…" I whispered the word for hours until it lost all meaning. Eventually, Erik stood up and walked away to his organ, leaving me alone. He sat down and began to play a beautiful melody, casting me glances every now and then, as if placing silent bets on when I would stop crying and start listening. I never stopped crying, not that night at least, I sat there while he played long into the night, sobbing and crying and messing up my face.

I finally stopped crying when they came.

I all honesty, I'd expected them much, much sooner. Why they'd put it off, I did not know and I didn't want to know, maybe it had something to do with Sycamore's plan and that I did not want to think about.

They poured out of nowhere, surrounding the chair I was in and glaring at me expectantly with their beady red eyes. They were repulsive with their matted black fur and thick, grotesque tails. It began as it always did, they would laugh at me, their breath wheezy and vile, and then they would start with her demands.

"Take us home." Their leader began and then another piped up, repeating the phrase and then another and another and another until they were all wheezing it out.

"I-I can't." I whispered quietly, trying to have their presence remain unknown by Erik.

"Do it now, Persis, don't make us angry." They repeated that for some time, growing more and more rabid as the seconds flew by. They grew larger, their mouths began to foam and their beady eyes glared at me, wishing death upon me.

"Stop it; you know this isn't my doing." I whispered a little bit louder than I meant to. I looked to see Erik turn his head towards me and his brow furrow the slightest bit, but I ignored him.

The largest Thing, the leader was the first one to bite. It took a flying leap into the air and landed beside me, sinking its teeth into my upper arm. I shrieked in pain and startled Erik, making him hit an off note before slamming his fingers on the keys before standing up and walking down the steps.

By then, almost all of the Things were attacking me. They bit and scratched and tore away my skin, but when I tried to kick them off, my legs went right through them. The pain was so real though, it felt like a million rats were trying to strip my flesh from my bones and succeeding.

"Get off!" I shouted and the oncoming Phantom back up just the slightest bit. I looked to him with pleading eyes before flipping my body over and trying to fling more Things away from me to no avail. Their bites and scratches didn't leave any physical effect on me, as there was no blood or wounds, but it sure as hell felt like it.

It was then that something very, very strange happened.

Erik, who didn't seem to know what was going on, reached out his thin, pale hand and brushed it over the top of my leg. I didn't expect this to work, but the Things went flying off and vanished into thin air. I looked to him in shock, my mouth falling open as he turned and ascended back up the stairs, sitting in front of his organ and picking up one of his many quills, scratching a few notes onto the music sheets.

"You made them go away." I croaked. It was a statement, not a question, but Erik didn't even turn his head, making me wonder if he'd even heard me.

"I know." He replied after some time, never turning to look at me.

"You're not going to ask what they are?" I asked and he shook his head.

"No, however, if you wish to tell me, I am listening." He replied and I found myself to utterly bored to not to.

"Do you know what schizophrenia is?" I asked and he nodded. I was surprised, as it wasn't exactly a household name, especially with actual name only being dreamed up in 1867, I supposed that he had more secrets than I thought.

"It's a psychological disorder that I came across in my studies." He responded and I gasped.

"You did?" He nodded, setting his quill down.

"Yes, when I studied in Persia." He replied and I nodded.

"I suffer from it, although my case is mild." I replied and this seemed to peak his interest.

"In what ways?" I shrugged as best as I could with my hands tied behind my back.

"I can differentiate reality from my own little world, and I don't go into my own little world anymore, my medication fixed that." I said bitterly, remembering my happy place that the doctors had supressed with many, many different types of narcotics.

"Go on." He said, turning to actually look at me.

"Despite this, I see things. I have friends who aren't really there. Their names are Sixty, Goblin, Scissors, Jinx and Shock." I told him, but he didn't seem surprised in the least. "I also have a bad friend." I said; this time quieter. "Her name is Sycamore; she's the one who sends the Things, the little monsters that were hurting me." I said.

The Phantom said nothing; he just stood up and walked a little bit closer to me, taking a seat on the rock.

"Sycamore never shows her face, but I see all my other friends as clear as day. When I don't so what she likes, she scratches me or has the Things do it for her." I finished, sighing and shifting around until I was more comfortable. I hissed in pain when I accidentally, flexed my injured hand and Erik seemed to register this, for he stood up and walked towards a small box on the low table where his rope sat.

I was scared that he might reach for the lasso instead and finally make my nightmare come true but he did not, instead, he unlocked the little box and took out a bottle of ointment and a bandage. He lastly picked up and knife and motioned for me to turn around, which I did.

He grabbed the rope that bound my hands together, if a little bit roughly, and began to saw away at the binds until they came loose. I felt air on the raw skin of my wrists, but the cut in my hand that had completely soaked its makeshift bandage with blood was a lot more painful.

As gently as he could, the Opera Ghost undid the ruined bandage and threw it away, unfurling my clenched hand and opening the bottle. It smelled awful, but he dumped quite a bit on the cut, making it sting like crazy. I yelped and he mumbled something that I didn't hear before carefully wrapping the white bandage around my hand and tying it.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the ties I saw him wearing around his neck the night he was in my room, and with incredible speed, he tied my wrists together again, this time, they didn't burn or anything. He quickly did the same to my ankles before I turned around and gave him an odd look.

"Thank you." I said quietly, but before he could say anything else, I turned my head away and yawned, exhaustion seeping into my muscles. The chair was not the most comfortable place to sleep, but it was the best I had, so I adjusted myself and closed my eyes, forgetting that the Opera Ghost was even there as I slipped into unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9: Where Was I? Oh, Escaping!

**A/N: Sorry you guys, it's been a while so for now, I'll be setting some ground rules. I will update every Thursday, no earlier, no later. Check up once a week then and if there is no new chapter, feel free to flame. Happy holidays and a happy end of the world to you.**

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**_Chapter Nine: Where was I? Oh, Escaping!_**

When I woke up, I was no longer on the chair with my back crooked. Instead, I was lying down on the softest bed imaginable, with really soft, cloud-like pillows underneath my head and a warm blanket to dispel the winter chill tucked up to my chin. I raised my arms to stretch as I usually did, but found them to be tied together at the wrist again. On major bonus of this was that they were tied from the front instead of the back this time, which gave my shoulder blades some relief.

I sat up as best as I could without the use of my hands and found that my legs were untied, with was awesome for I never would've gotten that heavy blanket off of me if they were still joined together. When I had successfully kicked away the blanket and swung my legs over the side, I almost fell over. I almost did this because of the amazing amount of paper that was strewn around all over the place.

It was like someone had grabbed hold of all of the sheet music in the world and evenly dispersed it all over the floor, making it extremely slippery. I caught myself on the table and wondered just why all this paper was everywhere. Sure, there were a few pieces here and there when I was here before, but never this much.

I heard angry organ music from behind he closed door, and my curiosity heightened. I carefully turned the knob of the door and growled under my breath when I found it to be locked. I threw myself against the piece of wood in an attempt to get it too break down in a fit of anger, but it didn't work. I whirled around, looking for something, anything I could throw at it, but found that the Phantom was again one step ahead of me as everything even remotely heavy was removed from the room. The table with the pretty Persian money music box was gone, along with the chair and all of the candleholders were removed, leaving the candles to drip wax onto the floor and walls. All the paintings were gone, as well as the books that had been strewn about, which explained the paper, and he even took the sconce-holders that used to hold torches. This was impressive because they were bolted into the wall.

I growled again and body-slammed the door once more, hearing it creak in protest but stay firmly shut. I screamed in anger and threw myself back on the bed, hearing the rage-filled music stop for a moment before continuing with even more force.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE!" I shouted towards the door at the top of my lungs but got no reply as I buried my head in one of the pillows and screamed again.

I'd been taught at a very, very young age by none other than my Mom herself that keeping anger inside of you is not healthy. Her solution; every time I was angry, as long as I didn't hurt myself, our belongings or others, I could do whatever the Hell I wanted. Then, I wanted nothing more than to scream my face off, and so I did.

I lay down on my back and tilted my head to make full use of the acoustics in the room and just let myself go crazy shrieking as loud as I could. I knew Erik downstairs could hear me and I hope that if I kept this up he'd get angry enough to at least unlock the door.

This didn't happen, and I was left alone for most of that day.

I had been banging my head against the wall, repeating the phrase "I am not afraid of you" from Drop Dead Fred –one of the movies shown in the hospital's makeshift movie theater- and hoping it would have some effect on my captor, who had stopped playing the organ some time ago, when an idea struck me. I sat back up and swung my legs over the side again, this time flopping down on the floor and picking up a random, blank sheet of paper.

I spotted a pencil across the floor and scurried over, picking it up and sitting against the wall. I attempted to hold the pencil with my tied-together hands, but found writing with it nearly impossible. It was then when I groaned in frustration and tucked my knees up to my chest that I remembered my shard of mirror. I'd tucked it carefully into one of breeches pockets to avoid detection, and it seemed as though that had done the trick, for the Opera Ghost was none the wiser.

I carefully removed it from the pocket and held it in-between my hands, angling it downward and sawing away at the ties with the sharp edge. It took a long, long time of just sitting there until the fabric finally gave way and separated, freeing my hands. I sighed in relief and picked up the pencil, my right hand moving quickly as I began to write.

In an hour or so, I was done. I folded the piece of paper in half and set it down on the night-stand that was bolted to the ground, and climbed back into the bed, closing my eyes and trying to dream up some clever escape plan. After sometime, no realization hit me and I was bored as can be once more.

I groaned and looked up above my head at the ceiling when finally some inspiration hit me. Inlaid into the cave ceiling was a ventilation system of some sort, with individual metal bars covering it. I stood up on the bed, which gave me enough of a boost to be able to brush my fingertips against the metal, but not enough to grab hold of it.

I took a deep breath and crouched down, getting all of my momentum ready and jumping as high as I could, grabbing hold of the bar and not letting go. I gave it a firm tug while I dangled in mid-air and was very satisfied when I heard the sound of the metal shifting. I dropped back down into the bed and repeated this action exactly seven more times before the bar finally came free.

I resisted the urge to shout with joy as I lifted the metal bar high above my head and went charging for the door. Just as I was about to bring the blunt object down on the door handle, I was suddenly stopped by Sixty's voice in my head.

She didn't appear before me, but she spoke in my head, her voice alarmed and worried.

"He's still out there, girl! Don't do it yet, wait for a bit!" She exclaimed and I instantly drew back my hand, albeit a little bit too fast.

The metal vent bar went flying out if my left hand and clanging to the ground, making a big noise. I didn't give myself time to think, I just reacted as fast as I could. I ran towards the bar and threw it underneath the mattress, hopping on top of it and laying down. I closed my eyes and drew the covers around me, pretending to be asleep.

Fifty seconds later, I heard a key in the lock on the other side of the door and while I wanted to run towards it, I held off knowing that the Phantom would not be as merciful as he was the last time he didn't kill me. The door burst open seconds later, and an angry Opera Ghost burst into the room.

"What are you doing?!" He asked loudly, making me slightly, no… _very _afraid. I tried to play dumb, making up some excuse.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just sort of threw a pencil at the wall." I said quietly, hoping he would buy it. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask questions, but it was then that he noticed my hands were free.

An inhuman rage began to grow in his eyes, making me very afraid, and so I turned and ran across the room, picking up the shard of glass that I used to cut myself free and holding it out to him.

"H-here. The ties were cutting off my circulation." I said in a voice barely above a whisper. I didn't look at him after that, secretly glad that he'd forgotten about the metal bar issue. He said nothing more before turning and walking out the door, shutting it and locking it. I guess he must've felt bad for ridding me of all feeling in my hands, even if it was a lie.

I let out a sigh of relief before going and sitting back down on the bed. The production of Ill Muto was in two days' time when I'd come down here, but who knew how long ago that was, it felt like forever. I knew that Erik couldn't resist the chance to harass Carlotta and from what I'd seen in the theater-shaped doll house, he intended to have Christine play the role of the Countess.

I lay back down on the bed, exhaling and closing my eyes and letting myself relax and fall into an eternity of sleep.

* * *

"How is my little Annika?" Mom asked as she opened the door to the principal's office. A big grin broke out over my tear-stained face and I hopped off the seat of the wooden chair, running over to her and throwing my arms around her middle.

I was five years old when the accident happened. I'd been playing quietly with Sixty on the monkey bars when a mean little boy, I think his name was Jeremy Banks, came running over, shouting mean things at me. He talked too fast if I remember, and I didn't like people who did that, and he was also being very rude to my best friend. He said that I was a loony because I talked to myself and it was then that I heard Sycamore's voice in my head for the first time.

"Persis, don't let that nasty little boy say such things to you…" She said with a hiss to the letter s. I nodded to myself and dropped down from the monkey bars, walking closer to Jeremy.

"Stop it Jeremy." I warned in a dangerous voice and the little boy scoffed.

"Make me, nutcase!" That was the last straw.

I flew at him, brandishing my nails and pushing him to the ground. I landed on top of him and began to claw at his face, drawing blood as I ripped the skin away like Sycamore told me to do. I was blind with rage and didn't understand what I was doing until Sixty finally snapped me out of it.

She looked to be around sixteen then, and she snapped her fingers in front of my face and pulled me from my trance, leaving me to stare at the bloody mess that was Jeremy's face. I screamed, the highest and shrillest scream I'd ever screamed, turning and running away from the playground while the other little girls and boys stood dumbstruck.

I'd run into the forest, so far in that I had gotten lost. I sat down on the ground and cried my eyes out until my teacher; Miss Bence came and found me.

Miss Bence was nice, she gave me a hug and took me to the office where she picked up the old phone and called Mom, telling her that it was time for me to get some professional help in the nicest way she could.

Everybody was nice to me on the staff, except for the principal, Mr. Dent. He was mean, he shouted at me, asking me over and over again why I did it, and again and again I'd tell him that Sycamore told me to do it.

I was so relieved when Mom came into the office and took me home, where Dad was unfortunately waiting. I didn't like my Dad, be was mean as Mr. Dent, but he'd never show it around Mom.

He yelled at me when she went to bed, and called me worse names than Jeremy that I didn't understand and didn't want to. The next day, Dad took me to the mental ward in the hospital, and it was there that I met Dr. Clara Hendrix for the very first time.

She was beautiful, and she told me gently after the diagnosis that I was showing signs of childhood schizophrenia. I took this well, as she said I was special, just like Mom did, but Dad was a raging wreck.

He did everything but hit Dr. Hendrix and it made me mad, it also made Sycamore come back.

She told me to shut him up, so I did, I climbed on top of the filing cabinet in the corner of the room, leaping from it and stringing my arms around Dad's neck, trying to choke the life out of him. He pulled me off of him with ease and demanded that I be locked away.

Dad always got what he wanted and so, I was thrown into an early Hell.

* * *

I shakily woke from my memory-dream hybrid, bad memories flooding back to me as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. I felt a pain in my hand, making me hiss as a light knock that was so quiet I could barely hear it was heard on the door. I knew it was Erik, but I was scared to say.

I took a gulp of air and sigh, my voice quivering. "Come in."


	10. Chapter 10: According to Plan

**A/N: Merry Holidays! I would like to point out that this chapter is two days early! I'm terribly sorry about this, it will not happen again, but I felt the need to give you guys a holiday gift. Please don't hate me, but after today, the Thursday rule will resume; my sincerest apologies. Today's disclaimer with be recited by the lovely and wonderful Meg Giry. **

**Meg: The Incredible Nameless wonder does not own The Phantom of the Opera or any and all references made to specific movies that may or may not be included in this chapter. **

**Me: Thanks very much, Meggie. Enjoy!**

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_**Chapter Ten: According to Plan**_

I heard a key in the lock of the door and five seconds later, it was pushed open by none other than the Opera Ghost. In his hands was a tray and the sight of food made me realize just how hungry I was.

He entered the room and set the tray down on the edge of the bed as I hastily stuffed the note I had written earlier under the pillow without him noticing. I peered over at the food and noticed that it was in a box similar to the ones that the pastries came in from the bakery down the street.

I was suddenly fascinated as I realised the fork and knife sitting beside the box on a napkin, and at the very same time, I realized that Erik had not left.

"I'm not going to kill myself." I said out loud and the man looked to me in shock. "And I won't attack you." He said nothing when I was finished, but his silence told me that he didn't believe it, and so I simply just shrugged and set about to opening the box.

I smiled when I freed my supper from its cardboard prison and found it to be a very delicious-looking meat pie. I readied my fork and knife, taking a small bite and chewing slowly. I looked up to see Erik watching me intently, as if gaging my reaction.

I let a grin curl up on my lips as I took another bite; it really was very, very good. The O.G. seemed to be pleased, but he hid it quite well under his stony demeanor, and said nothing while I ate.

"Did you eat?" I asked casually when I was done and I saw his gaze shift from far-off and glassy to me with a surprised expression.

"I don't eat." He replied and I lifted an eyebrow, taking another bite.

"Keep that up and you really will be a ghost." As soon as I said that, I wanted to take it back for his expression turned from surprised to maliciously amused in seconds.

"How do you know I am not?" He asked in a dangerous voice, a sickening gleam of rage in his eyes that made me quite scared.

"Because" I began, picking my words carefully, "Ghosts go to Heaven, or if they're Cats; the Heaviside Layer." I said in a quiet voice. He ignored the reference to Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats that I'd read when I was four, and seemed very angry at what I had to say.

"Not all ghosts go to Heaven you stupid girl. Some linger on and are unfit even for Hell." My gaze dropped from his to my food when he said that. I knew my original comment was less than smart to say, but right then, I doubted anything I said would make him like me very much.

"Ghost's like you?"

Me and my big mouth.

Surprisingly, Erik didn't lash out or try to kill me as I suspected he would. In fact, he simply stood up and walked briskly to the door with the tray. Just as I thought he would leave without another word, he paused before exiting and turned his head to look at me with sadness instead of anger in his eyes.

"Yes, ghost's like me." I shuddered from imagined cold as I so often did as he closed the door, locking it and I was left alone again.

I wasn't stupid. I knew that he wasn't going to tell me that he was going to Il Muto, although I knew he was. That was when I would make my great escape, with no chances of being caught. The question was; how would I know if he wasn't going to tell me? I sat back down on the bed, breathing heavily when Goblin decided to grace me with his presence.

"Oh my dear, you really have gotten yourself into quite the little muddle, haven't you?" He asked and I nodded, covering my eyes.

"You guessed it, dude." I replied and he scoffed.

"And just how do you expect to get yourself out of it, wise one?" He asked and I shrugged, shaking my head.

"I have no clue. Do you have any bright ideas?" The large barn owl ruffled his feathers nervously and shook his head, making me sigh and sit up again folding my hands.

"Well, I suppose there is always-" He began, but I cut him off.

"Wait, shut up for a second!" I cried, standing up on the bed and running over to the corner of the room where a tiny vent was placed. I found this odd, as there already was a large and impressive vent in the Phantom's bedroom for air flow, why did he need another one?

Goblin looked miffed at my cutting him off, but I waved a dismissive hand at him when he attempted to speak and he grew silent. I leaned in closer to the vent, pressing my ear against the extremely frigid metal, and my eyes widened when I was able to hear the soft music from what I remembered to be his Persian monkey music box float in from outside.

It was so faint that when I pulled back, I couldn't hear it anymore and that was when I fully realized that what I had just pressed my face up against was not a vent at all, but a sort of hearing tunnel that projected in noise from outside! I got why Erik would need one of these, as if he slept with the door closed and someone found his lair he'd never be able to hear them, but I guessed that he forgot about that when it came to my stay here.

"This is it old friend, my railroad ticket out of here!" I whispered to Goblin who looked quite impressed with me at my discovery.

"Such a clever, clever girl you are, Annika." He said, making me beam. I didn't stand up or move away from the vent, I wouldn't dare. I didn't want to miss my chance to get back upstairs again, as he could have left at any time without my knowledge.

I stayed hunched over by the vent for several hours, my neck getting a cramp and my spine beginning to hurt quite a bit. Goblin stayed with me throughout the entire time, talking to me about this and that.

It felt like forever before I heard Erik stand up. His footsteps were so very soft as he descended down the slippery stone steps of his lair and into his boat. He picked up his oar, and I heard that splashing noises as he dipped it into the lake's surface.

I knew he was leaving and I finally stood up painfully slowly. My neck and back cracked, making me feel better as I carefully walked over to the large swan bed and reached under the mattress, pulling out the bar. I reached under the pillow as well, grabbing the note I'd written before and I tucked it into my pocket.

I wanted another half an hour to make sure he was fully gone before I finally approached the door. I was absolutely terrified of being caught, but there was nothing worse than staying down here forever, so I swallowed my fear, and raised the bar above my head.

I closed my eyes, and let my mind go blank as I swung the metal bar down and hit the door knob head-on. I heard a satisfying crunch as the door knob broke off the door and fell clattering to the ground. I opened my eyes and stayed very still, trying to see if I could hear any movement in case the Opera Ghost wasn't really gone.

I remained still for seven minutes before realizing that he was gone. I lifted a shaking hand and pushed on the wood of the door, gasping softly when it opened with ease. I crept out of the room to find the lair empty and quiet. I raced down the steps as fast as I could, not wanting to stay here another minute as I pulled out the note and set it on his organ.

I glanced around nervously, looking for some exit or escape route, growling when I saw nothing. I descended the steps down to the lake, being careful not to slip as I surveyed the glassy water. No doubt it was freezing, but Erik had taken the only boat! I knew I would have to swim. I took a deep breath, stepping back before jumping feet first into the water, making a splashing noise that echoed forever.

The water wasn't as cold as I thought it would be and I began to swim, kicking my feet and legs, propelling myself as fast as I could go. I grew tired, so very tired, but I had to keep going, I had to, stopping wasn't an option, I had to get out.

I was soaked to the bone and so very cold when I finally pulled myself onto dry land. That damn lake was quite deep indeed and swimming was never my strong suit. I wrung out my hair and listened to the music from Ill Muto echoing from above. It was beautiful and filled me with the urge to sing along.

"_They say that his youth has set my ladies heart a flame!_" I chirped out, sounding like a bird if it had been tape-recorded while it was committing suicide. I laughed at myself and continued on, the music growing louder as I reached the fork in the tunnel.

To the left, Christine's dressing room was waiting, but I knew that she would be there, as the role of Serafimo was a small part at the very best. I didn't want to answer questions, or be around her should the Phantom try to come back and talk to her.

Instead I veered left into unknown territory, reaching a spiral of metal steps and taking a breath before beginning to climb them with added haste. I hurried up the stairs, not even bothering to take a break as I sped away, almost tasting freedom.

I realized too late that these stairs did not lead to freedom, but to the rafters.

I nearly screamed and my heart quite literally stopped when I saw Joseph Buquet leaning against the sturdy wooden rail, grinning perversely as he got a good view down Carlotta's dress bodice. I gagged and attempted to back up towards the stairs when I accidentally stepped on a creaky beam.

He turned his head, almost sniffing the air like a dog as I ducked around a corner and darted off into the dark passageways above the stage of the Opera house. I knew I was making noise and lots of it; but I didn't know how much until I heard the sound of a larger, drunker form walking from just behind me and I knew that the stagehand was hot on my trail.

I hurried faster, looking for the stairs that would lead me backstage and away from any immediate harm, but I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere, for I found myself at a dead end of ropes and unused piles of twisted metal too quickly with nowhere else to run. My breathing was all too heavy as I looked over the rail, trying to see if it was too far to jump.

It was an impossible drop, but I knew I would be dead anyway if I didn't go for it. I put my hands on the banister, stepping on a box and pushing myself up to stand on the wooden plank. I didn't dare look behind me, but I snuck a painfully quick glance at the ground below and felt my stomach flip. I reached up a shaking hand to cover my eyes as I let go of the vertically hanging rope I was clutching onto tightly.


	11. Chapter 11: The Ties That Bind

**A/N: Okay, sticking to a schedule is not working for me. I'm so very, very sorry but I'm afraid that I absolutely must update when I have a chapter done, the suspense just kills me! I hope that you don't mind that I'm junking the weekly-update idea, but I just have too much imagination that needs to be written down for this fic! Today's special guest to read my disclaimer has come all the way from the Twilight fandom! Give it up for Bella Sawn-Cullen!**

**Bella: The- uh- I-Incredible N-nameless Wonder doesn't- uh- o-own the Phantom o-of the Opera. **

**Me: Okay, you've said your line, now scram! And before you begin reading; this chapter is dedicated to symmetry888 for giving me my 40th review, I have never had this many reviews for just one story! Thanks so much!**

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**_Chapter Eleven: The Ties That Bind_**

I let go of the rope and allowed gravity to do its thing. I screamed as loud as I could before I went toppling off of the banister, but I soon found them to be stifled by a hand over my mouth. I heard the crowd below grow silent and the performance stop as I was caught around the neck and hauled back over the side of the banister.

I didn't open my eyes as the hands around my neck tightened, strangling me as before, except the agony was intensified by about a million as the choker that covered the bruises from before that had yet to fade was covered in small metal charms that dug into my skin, making small cuts.

My eyes were forced open and they immediately found the jaundice-ridden ones of my soon-to-be murderer; Joseph Buquet. He was silent as he choked the life out of me, but a wicked grin was on his face as my world grew dark. I forced myself to remain coherent and didn't pass out as his grubby fingers tightened their grip.

I kept a sharp image of Sixty and Goblin in my brain, for it was them that I would miss most of all should this be it. I felt no tears on my cheeks, which was odd because the last time I'd stared death in the face this way I was a sobbing mess, but now I found my eyes dry, as if I already knew I would end up dead if I tried to escape the Phantom, one way or another.

The Phantom.

Something in my heart hurt when I thought about how I'd gotten to this point. Sure, I said I went down to his lair to save Christine, but she was a girl I barely knew who favoured fops, why would I save her? I already knew the answer before even mentally asked it.

_You went to see him. _My mind stated and I couldn't help but agree, I went down there to see the infamous Opera Ghost and I did, and he was just as much of a monster as I'd expected. I didn't hate him at all though, in fact I felt drawn to him more than anything, almost as if determined to find the good in him; a lot of good that did.

The hands around my neck clasped even tighter and my vision finally began to grow blurry and quite dark. I whispered a mental goodbye to my friends as I surrendered to my impending doom. I wondered if God would let me in Heaven after all I'd done; most likely not. I wondered what Hell would be like, and if it could possibly be any worse than my life; which I doubted.

I was so focused on what my life would be like once it had ended that I didn't notice the hands that were trying to kill me were pried off for a few moments. I choked and sputtered as I got used to breathing and my glazed-over eyes were jerked back to reality as Joseph Buquet was pried off of me and thrown to the ground.

I gasped and slumped down to the ground as my saviour emerged from the shadows to punch Buquet in the face once, twice, and then three times. I heard the cracking of bone and saw blood spurting from the stagehands broken nose. He didn't scream, but he did look very, very afraid as the man who was clad all in black raises his fast to hit him again, this time in the eye.

For the briefest of moments, the man turned to look at me, making my heart freeze and my blood stop pumping for a few seconds. Half of his face was covered in a white mask and a sick gleam was in his eye. It took me three seconds to remember who it was.

Erik had come to save me.

I watched with amazed eyes as the Phantom of the Opera reached to his belt and pulled out his lasso that he had tied like a noose. My heart was thumping out of my chest at a remarkably ungodly pace, and I could only stare on as Joseph Buquet attempted and failed to escape the Opera Ghost.

I couldn't think about anything, my mind was blank. I didn't even gasp in shock as the stagehand stumbled and fell on the wooden beams that formed the floor of the rafters, his ankle twisted in a length of rope. Erik was upon him in seconds, wrapping the noose around his neck. Buquet wasn't giving up; he followed the advice the Persian would give Raoul in the book and the slimy man kept his hand at the level of his eye, prolonging his life for a brief amount of time.

The Phantom pulled the noose tighter still as Joseph Buquet screamed. I heard yet again the sound of cracking bone and I realized that Erik had pulled the length of rope tied into a noose so tightly that it had broken the stagehands wrist.

I finally found my lungs and began to breathe again at an ever so slightly faster pace than the normal as Erik tightened the rope around the man's neck tighter. I thought for sure that he would finally just die, but he seemed to have other plans, for just as Erik was about to throw him from the high rafters, the vile stagehand kicked his legs out from under him and stood up, reaching a hand into his pocket.

My eyes widen even further when he pulled out the very same knife he'd threatened me with. I couldn't scream; it felt like he was choking me once more as he dove at Erik, plunging the knife into his torso.

A moment later, I found my voice box, and I screamed with everything I had in me.

This seemed to throw Joseph Buquet off for a second, as he looked up to me in surprise, as if he'd forgotten I was there. This gave Erik enough time to find his footing once more, and when he did so, Buquet was in another world, making it all too easy for him to push him off the rafters.

The noose tightened around his neck as he fell, cutting of his airway and leaving him to hang right in the center of the stage.

The screaming began moments later, drowning out the beautiful ballet music.

Hurried footsteps were heard from below admits the shout and sounds of hysterics. I supressed my tears as Erik hung onto the banister for support as the red spot on the front of his shirt grew at an alarming rate. I didn't have time to react, and thank God I didn't, I just knew that I couldn't leave him, not after he saved my life yet again.

"Can you walk?" I asked in a hurried voice and he nodded quickly. I took a deep breath and grabbed his arm, hooking it around my shoulders.

He gave me a surprised look and tried to push me away but I stopped him. I was surprised by my own strength but I had bigger problems to worry about than my adrenalin.

"Trust me." I told him, but I didn't give him enough time to respond. We had maybe minutes until someone came up here and found us, minutes that could not be wasted. I lead him as fast as I could back the way we came, reaching the spiral of old, metal stairs fairly quickly.

I snaked a hand around his waist to make sure he didn't fall, and slowly began to descend the steps. Just as we began he stopped walking and I looked up to him in surprise.

"Come on, we don't have much time!" I exclaimed as he pushed himself off of me. He went back up the steps towards the side of the wall, where a black curtain held back by a black ribbon that I'd never noticed before was. He pulled the tie and the fabric fell into place, concealing the steps. I was there when he was done, providing a marginally shorter shoulder for him to lean on.

"Where did you hide the boat?" I asked quickly when we reached the lakeside and I found the shore to be empty. The phantom of the Opera, who had remained unusually silent, finally decided to speak.

"Behind the rocks, right over there." I was startled with how he sounded. Yes, he seemed calm, cool and collected for a man who had been stabbed in the torso on the outside, but on the inside and in his voice, he sounded as though he was in quite a bit of pain. He was still in charge though; that much was clear, and so I did as he said and I found a rock that wasn't too wet for him to sit on and I ducked behind the wall of rocks, pulling the heavy boat out and onto the shore.

"I'll row." I told him when we were seated in the boat. He had reached for the oar, but I was faster, as my abdomen wasn't bleeding profusely. He looked as though he was about to argue, but I cut him off with a glare. "I don't know how deep your wound is' you could very well die of blood loss if we sit here arguing." That shut him up.

We rowed in silence, with only the oar splashing into the vast lake to shatter the awkward silence that filled the air. I should have felt angry with myself for getting roped back into this mess, but somehow, I didn't, no… couldn't feel that way. I just knew that I had to help him as he helped me.

_A life for a life, Annika. _I heard Sixty's voice in my mind and I nodded. I didn't even remotely like him at all; I was just helping because I owed it to him. When I knew he was going to be alright, then I'd make plans to escape again, shortly followed by sorting out my life after I'd fled the Opera Populaire.

* * *

I hopped out as fast as I could when we reached the Phantom's lair, with him following slowly behind me, an arm pressed against his torso. I lead him up the smooth stone stairs to the bedroom and a look of anger flashed across his face when he saw what I'd done to his door. I sighed and pushed the door open, leading him towards the bed and stepping over the knob that I'd broken off with the large metal bar from his vent.

"I know where the bandages are, lie down and I'll be right back." I sprinted out before he could reply and rushed to the box that he kept the medical supplies in that was sitting where it was the last time he had used it to bandage my hand. I opened it quickly, almost dropping the box my hands were shaking so badly as I try to recall what the nurses did when people in the depression ward attempted suicide back home at the hospital.

_Fuck it; I don't have time for this._ I thought to myself before grabbing the whole box and tearing up the stairs back to the bed room. By the time I reached the door, I was out of breath and panting. I let myself into the room without knocking and set my sights on the Phantom, who was standing there as though he hadn't moved.

"Well, don't just stand there." I said, getting angry at the fact that he was wasting his time, although I didn't know exactly why that irked me. "Do you need help?" I asked when he refused to move. I took a few steps closer and the injured Ghost growled lowly under his breath, as if my being there was reason enough to get cross.

"Are you daft?" Leave me!" I exclaimed with enough force to startle me. I didn't back down or cower away though. I stood straight as a board and squared my shoulders, setting the box down and clenching my jaw.

"Fine." I said in an icy voice before turning on my heel and leaving.

I stomped back over the red chair I'd woken up in, and sat down, folding my arms. I sighed and let my eyes close; determined to just rest them and not fall asleep, but nobody can control their body when it wants to do something.

* * *

I woke up a few hours later; my back and neck stiff as I wondered what just happened. No sound came from the bed room and I grew curious after a while. I stood up and slowly moved towards the door that led into the room, creeping softly in case Erik was asleep. I carefully pushed the door open with my hand that wasn't healing and gasped.

Erik was gone.


	12. Chapter 12: When a Prison's Not a Prison

**A/N: LE GASPETH! Another update you ask? Hell ya! Because I love every single one of you like I love Aidan Turner (and hot DAMN do I love him, word of advice, go see The Hobbit if you already haven't) and I decided to give you another chapter. Thank you to my reviewers, you guys are fabulous! Today's disclaimer state-er is the amazingly beautiful Gollum, all the way from the Lord of the Rings fandom, courteously loaned to me by a shady hobo with a pickaxe. **

**Gollum: The Incredible Namelessssss Wonder doessssn't own the Phantom of the Opera, doessss it, Preciousss? No, it doesssn't….**

**Me: Leave me, I find you unattractive. To my readers; ENJOY!  
**

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve: When a Prison's not a Prison**_

Oh shit.

Was my initial reaction.

I didn't think, for if I stopped to, Sixty or Goblin might've talked me out of it. Instead, I turned on my heel as fast as I could and sprinted out of the room, turning this way and that; frantically looking for the Phantom.

_Why did he leave?_ Goblin asked me in my head and I smacked my forehead, jostling him out of my brain and making him leave me alone.

_Not right now! I have to think!_ I exclaimed, pausing for the briefest of moments to assess just where I was. I was right in front of the organ, my note still sitting on the top, untouched. I grabbed it off of the large keys before Erik would ever have a chance to see it and I tucked it into my pocket for later disposal.

"Why do you care so much?" I screamed out loud and jumped six feet in the air when Shock rose from the lake, her black, torn opera dress wet, but her hair still perfect.

"Not now, Shock, I need to figure out where he's gone!" I cried and she lifted an eyebrow.

"Again, why?" I shook my head, if I let myself think about why; I'd run from the lair screaming and never look back, leaving the man who saved me to die.

"Shove off." I told her and she faked offence.

"That's a nice way to talk to someone who has an idea of where your little friend ran off to!" She exclaimed and I looked to her in surprise.

"You do?" I asked and she nodded, not saying anything more. "Well, where's he at then?!" I asked frustrated and she shrugged.

"Not here, obviously." I growled at her as she laughed at her own bad joke. She threw out her arms after saying this and allowed herself to fall back into the water; disappearing from view and fading away. I grit my teeth as I thought about where I could go to search for him when something clicked.

"Secret passageways." I thought allowed before my eyes widened. "Yes! Of course, secret passageways!" I began immediately, searching for some little crevice that would tell me just where Erik had run off to.

I ran my hands over the walls, feeling for an out-of-place something for what felt like forever. I was just about to give up when I walked past the miniature model of the theater that was set into the wall. I was dragging my hand along behind me and I gasped when a section of the wall; a brick made to look like all the others, moved in.

Slowly and silently, the wall moved away, revealing a secret passage. I didn't know if it was the right one, as Erik might've had dozens in his little world, but it would have to do. I grabbed a candle from the many on the desk and turned back to the tunnel, taking a deep breath before closing my eyes and stepping forward into the dark.

The ugly hole as it were was slimy with neglect and covered in spider's webs, most of which were still occupied, making me gag. I crept along the tunnel, watching out for any rats or ugly things and at the same time I tried not to lose my footing on the uneven cobblestones that made up the rough, thrown-together floor.

It was obvious that Erik didn't use this passageway very much, and I considered turning around when I heard it. The sound of two people talking I hushed voices. I crept around the corner slowly and found myself looking into my old room through a key-hole, with my body being shielded by a large wall.

_That's how the Phantom got to my room. _I thought to myself as I surveyed just who was in my old room and what they were talking about.

"And you have no idea where she could've gone, Mme. Giry?" I knew that voice! It was M. Andre!

"No Monsieur, she disappeared short after Miss Daae." I grew curious, this conversation was about me!

"Well, where could she have scampered off to?" M. Andre asked and I noticed that he had something in his hand. I craned my neck, the lamplight in the room making it hard to see as I squinted.

"Open the note, Monsieur; I am quite certain that it will tell you exactly where she has gone off to." It was then that the light reflected just enough to illuminate the sealed envelope edged in black with a red wax skull emblem holding it closed shut.

"I've received three notes in the past day, Mme. Giry. You open it; I can't stand to hear more from our resident ghost!" I heard the aging French woman sigh as she snatched the note from the grizzly manager, whose clothing quality was just as shabby, even though he was making truckloads of francs.

"Very well, Monsieur." She inhaled and began to read, actually, she began to sing.

_"Dear Andre, _

_Miss Walters is mine now. I've rid you of that sickly loon. Keep your mourning to a low, I hear all you know? Something else, it's better to forget her or I tell you that your death will be quite soon! _

_-O.G"_

I was slightly hurt by what Erik had to say about me, as I was _not _a sickly loon, and I most certainly was _not _his by any means or standards. I shook myself from my thoughts and concentrated on what they were saying in case it had anything to do with me and I noticed Mme. Giry looked shocked when she finished while M. Andre seemed relieved at the very best.

"Thank Heaven that we don't have to worry about that amnesia-ridden child anymore." He said with a relieved laugh while Mme. Giry glared pointy, fiery daggers at him.

"She vanished right after Miss Christine Daae. Meg said that her black pointe ballet shoes were missing, Monsieur, and the costume for Ill Muto is gone as well, as for her mirror well…" She trailed off, realizing she was rambling and that her clues didn't match up.

"Forget her, Mme Giry, she is good as dead if the Ghost has got his hands on her." M. Andre told her and she nodded, allowing herself to be led from the room. The door closed and I moved on, not wanting to be heard or discovered. I didn't want to turn back now; I wanted to see if this passage led to Erik, as he might've stopped to deliver the note.

I reached a set of stone steps, hewn right from the very cement that formed the roof of the Opera house. I briefly wondered if Erik carved them, and if he did; how long it took him and what tools he used. I didn't dwell on those kinds of thoughts for too long, as I was interrupted by another pair of voices speaking in hushed voices.

I scampered up the steps even faster, wanting to hear what was being said and I soon found it getting much, much colder. I shivered and hugged myself, making a mental note to obtain a jacket sometime soon, as my white, puffy shirt that was more than a little dirty was thinner than cheap, dollar-store paper and I was quite frozen by the time I reached the source of the two whispering voices.

One was high; musical and feminine while the other was also feminine, just not very musical.

_It absolutely must be KotF and Christine. _Goblin said and I giggled at out nickname for Raoul lightly. I pulled myself together and continued on until I finally came to a dead end. I didn't see how that worked and I looked all around, trying to find a pulley or wall or something that would lead me onwards. I spent six minutes looking until I saw the beam of light coming from a small, round hole right above me. Cold air poured though this little circle and I was able to make out a faint outline of a trapdoor in the candle-lit darkness.

"Ah-ha!" I exclaimed ever so quietly, standing on my tippy-toes in the low corridor to press the palms of my hands to the plank of wood and push it up. I poked my head out of the square-shaped hole that I made really, really quietly and peered out into the frozen night. It was beautiful out; lamps from the bustling street full of French people were bright enough to shine all the way up here and make the icy water-crystals that were a small part of the drifts of snow sparkle like a zillion diamonds and standing in the middle of the soft snow-fall was none other than the romantic hero we knew nothing about and the silly little girl.

By all rights, I was the same age a Christine, but I was almost seventeen, she was barely sixteen. Either way, we were close in age and although I knew even then that teenagers' were supposed to be fucking idiots no matter what time period, she was absolutely ridiculous, she was my friend, but she was ridiculous! She'd fall for the first pretty thing that fell into her lap and sang her a dumb childhood song and completely ignore those who needed to be seen; it was infuriating!

"Raoul, he will find me, he'll never stop looking!" She sounded desperate and he held onto her hands tightly, even though it was obvious that she wanted to get away.

"Christine, there is no man of which you speak!" Raoul exclaimed again for the umpteenth time and I rolled my eyes.

_So much for a relationship based on mutual trust. _Sixty whispered in my mind and I smirked. It was then that I looked away from the man in the tux and the little girl in the white dress and red hood. I let my eyes look all the way up to right near me and it was then that I noticed the spot of black against the dark of a stone Pegasus.

"Erik." I didn't know I'd whispered his name until he turned to look at me. I ducked down and his keen eyes failed to see me, maybe because they were glazed with unshed tears. The sight of him broke my heart a tiny bit and I found myself hard to be annoyed with him for sneaking off.

"We must go, Raoul." Christine said and it was then that I realized that Erik's cape was flapping in the light wind; making a noise she could hear.

"I shall order my carriage; we shall be free of this place." He told her in a voice that I would've fallen for if I had half a brain. Christine took the KotF's hand and led him towards the door that lead them down to the Opera house below and they were soon gone.

A splash of red against the snow caught my eye and I realized that it was a rose, a dark red rose that Erik seemed very sad she had left behind. He stepped down from the statue and knelt down beside the flower, muttering things under his breath as he crushed the poor rose in his black-gloved fist.

I pulled myself up out of the trapdoor, knowing that he'd allow himself to freeze to death out here if I let him and took a tentative step towards him. He was rocking back and forth, murmuring things, his voice cracking, he was a mess. I took another few steps and he winced, clutching his abdomen.

I was just a foot away from him when I knelt down, touching him shoulder lightly so as not to scare him. He whipped around, looking at me with anguish-filled eyes. The good half of his face was wet with his tears that had begun to turn to ice and he seemed to upset to be angry with anybody but the KotF.

"Erik will kill him, Erik will make him pay." He said to me and I nodded, humoring him. I took him by the elbow and stood him up slowly, letting him lean on my shoulder.

"Hey, Erik?" I asked when we reached the trapdoor and he looked to me silently. "When you decide to kill him, tell me okay? I want to help." And with that, I helped him into the passageway and let it slam shut behind us as I retreated back to my prison that was beginning to feel like anything but.

* * *

_The song for the note is sung to the standard tune sung during the song; Notes in the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, I'm sur eyou're all familiar with it._


	13. Chapter 13: Summer Break for Phantoms

**A/N: WOOT! Another update! How do ya like them apples? Alrighty then, moving on, happy birthday to… somebody! Anyway, thanks so much to PhantomFan01 for my 50****th**** review, you are amazing and I never thought I reach that many. As for our disclaimer, well, I'll just let Barnabas Collins take it from here; so please give a warm welcome to the vampire from the Dark Shadows fandom!**

**Barnabas: Our… dear Miss Wonder does not in fact have possession to the rights of the Phantom of the Opera, so do not attempt to meet her in court, for I have spoken, and the law has no meaning here. **

**Me: Thanks! To my readers; ENJOY!**

* * *

**_Chapter Thirteen: Summer Vacation for Phantoms_**

When Erik and I were safely back at the lair, I decided to ask the question that had been on my mind for some time now. I turned to him, glad that he'd stopped crying finally, and realized that he'd sunk down into my chair. He was staring off into space, freaking me out a little bit so I approached him slowly, getting down on my knees and waving a hand in front of his face.

He didn't respond right away, which put me off the slightest bit, and so I reached out my hand to tap him on the shoulder. Again, I got nothing until roughly around seventeen seconds later, the sad ghost blinked and steadily emerged from his depressed fog. He stared at me as if he couldn't believe I'd just gotten so close to him before casually moving back just a bit, making me sit back on my heels and cross my arms in front of my chest.

"E- Phantom" I stopped myself, I couldn't let Erik know that I knew his name; he'd throw a fit at me, or possibly believe that Mme. Giry told me, and then go and unleash almighty Hell on her. "Uh, Phantom, I was wondering if you'd be interested to hear a little proposition I have for you." I said and even though he looked about as interested as a baby with a block of wood, he still found it in him to at least pay attention.

"Go on." He said in a bored voice and I gave him a sad smile, folding my hands and clearing my throat, getting ready to reveal the plan that had been swimming around in my head for about five seconds prior to this interaction.

"So, I was thinking… I don't know if you'd want to but seeing a how you are currently bleeding profusely, I thought you may want to take a small break, maybe just for a few months?" I asked very, very carefully.

Erik didn't say anything at first, but the look in his icy blue eyes was enough to tell me that he wasn't too keen on the whole idea, what a surprise! I took a very deep breath, sensing an argument as he furrowed his brow and made to stand up from the chair. I stood up as well, knowing what was coming and sure enough, the Phantom instantly winced in pain and sat back down again, with me guiding his shoulders to make sure he didn't fall.

"Just think about it." I told him in the most gentle voice I could muster. A minute passed and the silence turned completely and totally awkward, giving me plenty of time to look him over while he slipped back into his thinking state of utter stoniness.

He was handsome, very, very handsome, with his smartly-gelled hair and pretty eyes, but they were as cold as the snow he was kneeling in just an hour ago, and they were distant, like a long tunnel with no light, making the beautiful part of his face seem tragic and wasteful. The other half of his face was hidden from my view, covered by a white porcelain mask. I wanted so badly to reach over and tug it off, but I knew that I'd end up dead if I did that, so I kept my hand firmly in my lap.

My eyes wandered down to his profusely bleeding torso that had begun to seep through his white shirt….

_Wait, profusely bleeding torso that had begun to seep through his white shirt? Oh no. OH FUCK NO! _Sixty screamed at me from my mind and I instantly flew into a hyper-panic of sorts.

"Phantom, Phantom! SNAP OUT OF IT!" He was jarred from his own little world as I grabbed hold of his shoulders and began to shake him a little bit.

_Calm down dear, he'll be fine, just keep cool. _Goblin whispered and Erik seemed to notice how I suddenly just stopped shaking him and began to look at my lap.

"HE IS NOT FINE!" I shouted randomly and this seemed to startle Erik quite a bit, as he jumped back a small amount, making me come back to reality. "Okay, okay, okay… Phantom, I don't know how to tell you this but if your injury is still bleeding, you might need stitches." Erik sat in silence and I knew we did have time for this.

_I'm no medical doctor… but isn't he going to die soon if you don't do something? _I smacked my forehead, getting rid of Shock and I stood up, pulling Erik to his feet and dragging him back towards the bed room.

"Yeah, yeah, you need stitches, where are the needles?" Erik didn't answer right away, which made me angry, so very angry. "WHERE ARE THE GODDAMN NEEDLES?!" I screamed in his face and he almost looked a bit scared before it was covered up again and he pointed to the little box of medical supplies on the ground from before.

I pushed him over to the bed and told him to take his shirt off, which he begrudgingly did, and he lay down, not letting me get a good look at him. I snapped open the lid of the little box that was simply bursting with medical supplies like rubbing alcohol, gauze, and this strange smelling salve that he out on my hand all that time ago, which really wasn't that long ago really.

I dug to the bottom, growing quite frustrated that I couldn't seem to find the needle, I dug for what felt like quite a very long time to no success and I was just about to give up when I jabbed my finger onto its sharp, thin, pointy surface. I hissed softly and picked up the skinny little devil, wiping it off and realizing that I couldn't sew up a grown man with just a dirty needle and some string.

I stood up and didn't offer Erik any explanation at all as I bounded down the stone steps and picked up one of the candles as well as a shallow, blue-glass bowl. I was just about to go back to the room where I'd get to play surgeon and possibly kill my patient when I spotted a goodly-sized bottle of curious-looking liquid. I picked it up and inspected the label, surprised to find it to be whiskey. It hadn't been opened yet and the incredibly thick layer of dust that coated the clear-glass surface told me that it had never even been touched and while I wondered why someone would just randomly buy alcohol, I didn't dwell on it. I looked around one last time to see if there was anything else I could possibly need and I set my sight on the monkey music-box in Persian robes. I picked him up as well, just in case and then I quickly rushed back up the slippery stone steps as fast as I could go and went back into the semi-large bedroom.

I set the stuff I had collected onto the little bedside table and poured the bottle of alcohol into the shallow blue-glass bowl, setting the thread into the liquid to disinfect. I found a pair of tweezers in the medical box as well, most likely used for removing shards of glass from a wound and I propped it up near the candle so that the needle was held just above the hot, burning flame so it could be rid of any and all germs. I knew Erik's chance of getting an infection was still high, but I had to risk it. I uncorked the bottle of whiskey and kneeled down by the side of the bed.

"I need you to drink this for me, okay?" I asked and he looked at me curiously.

"What is it?" He asked and I shrugged.

"Just some whiskey. I need to stitch you up and I don't have any other pain killer. He seemed skeptical, for he looked disgusted at the thought.

"I do not drink, you stupid girl." He told me in an even voice and my gaze hardened.

"Would you prefer I knocked you unconscious for this particular surgery?" I asked and he grabbed the bottle from my hands, taking careful sips to avoid alcohol poisoning. I smirked and looked to my makeshift medical supplies, the grin falling off my face when I realized what I'd have to do.

I looked down to the small gash that had finally stopped bleeding and had dried up and gagged a little bit; this would not be easy. I took to the bottle from Erik, who said that he had begun to feel a bit tingly and I picked up the other, much smaller bottle that held what was left of the rubbing alcohol.

"Okay, here's what I'm going to do; I have to disinfect the area, I think, and I'm going to pour this on right… now." I tipped the contents of the bottle out and onto the open gash, making the flesh sizzled and Erik grit his teeth in silent pain. I felt bad for him, but I knew I had to continue.

I picked up the needle and carefully threaded it, tying a knot and praying to whatever power that resided in Heaven that this would all go smoothly.

"Phantom, hold onto the side of the bed and squeeze if it hurts." I told him and he complied. I lined the needle up carefully and with a deep breath, I slid it into his skin. Poor Erik grew even paler and waxier than he already was as I carefully sewed up his cut, trying to make it as painless as possible. I thought the bed would dent from his crushing grip, but the strange man did not scream or cry out, he merely stayed still.

When it was done, I sat back and fought off the urge to cry. I bandaged up Erik's torso again and felt sick. Blood was all over my hands and I knew that I had accidentally put him through an unneeded and excessive amount of pain due to my lack of any experience at all when it came to sewing wounds shut. I took a deep breath and realized that my hands were shaking yet again. I wiped them off on a cloth, not really caring and decided that I'd better just walk off this little escapade. I looked to Erik and I realized that he had slipped into unconsciousness. He still looked like he was on pins, even when sleeping, but he didn't snore, that was a bonus.

I took this opportunity to take a look at him, a good look at him and I found my eyes again wandering to his chest. His abs were smooth, but over them lay horrible, white, scarred gashes that seemed to be given to him quite a long time ago, as they had faded quite a bit. They were still gruesome though, and they made my hair curl.

Speaking of my hair, I knew how dirty it was, and I chose to wash it as I really had nothing better to do. Some weird soap from the medical box was found that didn't smell bad, but at the same time didn't smell good was unwrapped from its paper package and I once again departed the room to go to the lakeside. I dumped my hair into the very cold water, scrubbing the life out of my scalp and rubbing the soap in my hair until the water runs clean. I tie my hair up so my back won't get wet when I'm done and I go back to the bedroom to check on Erik, a smile coming to my face when I see he's up.

He doesn't smile back, but he does ask for his shirt, which I give to him. When he's fully clothed again, I linger by the door, debating whether or not to ask the question again. He beats me to it.

"Perhaps, foolish girl, I might be in need of a short break."


	14. Chapter 14: How to Ruin Christmas Part 1

**A/N: Man, I am on fire! This chapter is part one of two, and I hope that you enjoy. I really am going to write a book on how to ruin Christmas, as I am an expert so watch out for it, because it'll be hitting bookstores soon! Now that's out of the way, our disclaimer will be read by everyone's favourite bitch; Carlotta! **

**Carlotta: The-a Incredible-a Nameless Wonder-a, Does not-a own the-a Phantom of-a the Opera, so do not-a sue-a! **

**Me: *slowly claps* ENJOY!**

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**_Chapter Fourteen: How to Ruin Christmas _**

One of these days, I really must write that definitive novel. I've been planning to for some time now, and I don't believe that the topic is quite what you think it is.

Some people have a knack for certain things, my Mom could make a cheese soufflé with her eyes closed and a hand tied behind her back, my Dad, although a horrible human being, could stand on his head for six and a half minutes straight, I clocked him, but me, I always had a special gift when it came to ruining Christmas.

I know, I know, 'plenty of people have this talent' you say, but it was always my thing. One time, a home, I almost burned down the house trying to light the candles on the Christmas tree that we had outside! And in the hospital, back 'home', I accidentally made the paper chain of cute little kids that the children made headless; I never was really good with scissors.

But the Christmas I spent with Erik has got to be the crowning jewel in my sparkling tiara of holiday blunders, and it definitely ranks near the top of experiences I would love to forget ever happened, but I feel it's my duty to tell you, as you were the one who wished to know. Here goes nothing; this will not be easy to say…

* * *

It was two days after I had performed surgery on the Opera Ghost, I never imagined I'd be saying those words in the same sentence back home, but there I was, sitting in the lair of the Phantom, just outside the bed room on a comfy red chair.

Monsieur Phantom never woke up after I stitched him up, but I checked on him often to make sure he was still alive. I had feared he was in a coma, but on the first night, I saw him thrashing about from a nightmare. He did not actually wake up, but he did kick me in the shin rather hard. It didn't hurt anymore, and I'd taken to spending my days reading in the chair, casting glances at the door.

It had been three or four days since I had eaten, and hunger had begun to take its toll on me. My stomach no longer grumbled, but it was replaced with a gnawing pain. I did not know for sure if Erik even had any food down here, as he claimed to not eat, but he must've had some somewhere. I put the book down and rose from the seat slowly, walking down the steps and looking around. I crept over to the desk beside the life-scale model of Christine wearing a wedding dress and I hid my shudder, instead giving my full attention to the boxes that were on top.

I opened the first one, pleasantly surprised to find a stash of gold pieces. I looked carefully behind my shoulder, making sure that the sleeping Erik would not spontaneously wake up, and I took a few of them.

Surely you must think me an evil thief, but I assure you I was not. If I found food, I intended to go out into the city and get Erik a Christmas gift, just to make him feel better and if I did not, well, I would have to leave unless it was his intention to have me starve to death, which I would hope was not the case.

I moved to the seconds box after making sure that the first one filled with all those lovely gold pieces was tightly shut, and I opened its lid, a smile coming to my face as I came face-to-face with the comforting sight of the familiar bakery boxes. I lifted one out and opened up the lid, smiling even wider as I took out a small quiche. I ate it in a couple of bites and allowed myself to have another one before digging around and pulling out a second pastry box.

This one held small meringues that were lighter than the fresh air and mist that came up from the lake that I breathed in, and I felt quite full after my makeshift dinner-lunch-thing. I furrowed my brow and put everything back, wondering just how far away Christmas was, and seeing as how I was in the mood, I could sneak off and get Erik a present.

"Well you know, girl, if he wakes up, shit will get real." Sixty told me, appearing from nowhere and sitting down in the chair in front of the little model of the stage, putting her feet up on the desk. I nodded in agreement as Goblin flew in form over the lake.

"I conquer with Miss Seconds." He told me, referencing Sixty's last name, which happened to be Seconds. I know, terribly bizarre, isn't it?

While I knew my friends were right in saying I'd probably pay with my life if Erik caught me leaving, the chance to give him something as a thanks for saving my life was too much of a temptation.

"I'm sorry guys, but I have to do this, I have to say thank you somehow." I told them and Sixty rolled her eyes.

"Can't you just say it?" She asked in a bored voice and I glared at her.

"Hell no! That's not how it's done!" I told her as if it was the most obvious of things and Goblin lifted an owl-eyebrow in a suspicious manner.

"And buying total strangers gifts with their money is 'how it is done' as you so strangely put it?" He asked and I blushed at how stupid it sounded out loud.

"Yeah, yeah it is, deal with it!" I exclaimed, refusing to back down. It was stupid, I knew that, but I wanted to get him something nice, even if it was with his own money.

"Suit yourself, girl." Sixty said before she vanished completely. I looked to Goblin for a reaction of any kind and he shook his head.

"I'll bring flowers to your funeral, you still prefer roses, am I correct?" He asked and I rolled my eyes. He said nothing more, he merely took flight and soared out of the cave. I huffed and flounced out of the little cavern, heading towards the boat.

"I don't need to leave a note." I told myself out loud stupidly. "He'll be sleeping like the dead, until New Year's anyways." I said with as much confidence as I could muster. I grabbed a cape that belonged to Erik that was on the bench of his organ, and I climbed into the boat, ignoring my inner battle about the idiocy and spontaneity of my actions, and pushed off from the shore, never noticing that my previous escape note had fallen from my pocket onto the shore.

* * *

It felt so very good to be outside once more, as I had luckily crept into Christine's dressing room while she was practicing for some performance or another. I had run pell-mell out of the lobby and out into the snow, drawing the cape I had taken with me tightly around my shoulders. It was cold out, but so very beautiful. No sun graced the cloudy skies, but cheery Christmas spirit poured out of every well-lit shop window and gleeful passerby.

Children made snow angels in the large drifts of the white, fluffy ice crystals, and rolled up large balls that they stacked on top of each other to make wonderful snow men. It made me smile to see them so happy, and it made me smile even wider to know that I didn't have to hide. No one outside of the Opera house knew me, so I was free to roam as I pleased.

The shops were lined up down the little roads, and were cheerily lit, with not a single door lacking a bright green wreath with a pretty red ribbon. In each of the frosted windows, something beautiful went on inside, and I enjoyed peeking into the tiny little Heavens to see what was going on.

The first one I looked into was in fact the bakery that I had been eating from in the lair. It was owned by a plump, beautiful French lady with long, golden hair that was a few shades darker than mine, and crystal-clear blue eyes. Her cheeks were red and at a stark contrast to my sallow ones and she had a beautiful smile. Inside, it looked quite warm from the fire and the smell of baking bread radiated outside, even through the door. She looked at me expectantly, as if asking me silently to walk right in, but I merely smiled at her and moved on.

I passed beautiful glass shops where the paper-thing wonders were blown from long tubes by handsome men in suspenders. I considered that as a gift for Erik; the glass, I mean, not the hot guys, but it seemed too fragile for someone so… angry and vengeful, to put it bluntly.

I moved onwards and ignored the shops with beautiful hats and dresses in the windows, they wouldn't do, Erik; to my knowledge, was not a cross-dresser. I walked for what felt like hours, and I had a sick, strange feeling in my stomach that filled me with such sadness at the thought of going back to the lair empty-handed.

I was just about to turn around when I spotted a caravan sitting near the end of the last road. I looked at it curiously ad the banner that whipped in the wind on the side read 'Madame Du Boi's Shop of Rarities' in French, and right below it, English.

This intrigued me, for Erik was a rarity and I approached it cautiously. There was no line up outside, which made me happy to not have to wait, and I knocked on the door carefully. It was opened exactly six seconds later by an aging woman with olive skin and smooth black hair. Her teeth here pristine and white, her eyes a dull, chocolate brown, on her ears hung gold hoops and around her shoulders was a colourful shawl. Signs of age were present on her face in wrinkles, but her face lit up in a smile when she saw me.

"Oh my, come in, dearie!" She exclaimed in an accent I could not place. She held the door wider for me and I stepped inside out of the cold.

She was right in saying that her shop sold rarities, for all around me; objects of the oddest shape and size were littered. A large egg covered in scales sat in a glass case with a label that read 'real dragon egg, 400 francs' in French and again, English. I passed it by, as I didn't have enough money for that, and looked around for something else while the woman made casual conversation.

"I am Esmeralda Du Boi, at your service. Is there anything I could help you with?" She asked and I recognized her heavy accent to be Spanish. I shook my head and continued to paw thorough her wares when I finally found something suitable.

There is was, sitting in a drawer looking beautiful and I knew it was the gift for him. I lifted it up by the string and smiled; a tiny crystal chandelier. It was the one piece that Erik was missing from his little model theater, and I knew how much that meant to him. Every single day he would rearrange the little cast of wax dolls, and he would sometimes even play the score to the Opera that he was 'preforming'. A chandelier would be perfect. I looked at the tag and found it to be twenty francs.

_Perfect. _I thought to myself. _I can go back to his lair with ten francs to have left over. _I paid for it at the counter and quickly left, my pocket lighter as I ran back to the Opera house, checking to make sure that there wasn't anybody around. By some stroke of luck, Christine wasn't in her dressing room either, making it easy for me to slip through the mirror and head back to the boat.

I knew something wasn't right the second I got close enough to hear the shattering noises. Erik had woken up, and he was angry.


	15. Chapter 15: How to Ruin Christmas Part 2

**A/N: And another update! Just so you know, this chapter has had a bit of a face lift, so please read it again if you have in the last thirty minutes as things have changes slightly. As for our disclaimer, well, I'll be stating it today!**

**Me: I don't own this. If I did, well… the imagination kinda runs wild…. **

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**_Chapter Fifteen: How to Ruin Christmas_**

I was beyond afraid as I got even closer to the lair and Erik's form became noticeable through the wall of smoke that emitted from the clear, glassy surface of the lake. He looked mad; like nothing in the world could've made him angrier.

The curtains were pulled down, and the bookshelf was overturned, with all of its contents spilling out onto the wet floor in a horrible mess. Everything was everywhere and sheet music was all over the floor. Some of it was from Don Juan Triumphant, some of it was blank, and either way, it covered the floor and would be absolute Hell to clean up. The Phantom himself was an absolute mess, with his eyes narrowed in anger and his fists knocking over pretty much everything.

My stomach twisted around with my heart as the boat reached land and I took a shaky step onto the shore. It was then I noticed a piece of paper clutched in Erik's hand. It took me three seconds to put the pieces together before I fumbled around with my purchase and put a hand in my pocket. I gasped when I realized that the rather rude apology note I wrote for the night of Ill Muto was no longer there.

"Oh no." I whispered. I saw that Erik hadn't seen me yet, and a small part of me wondered if I even wanted him to, but I eventually made up my mind and stepped out into the limelight.

_Good luck. _Shock whispered in my head and I nodded to myself, standing perfectly still in front of the boat, no expression on my face as I waited for the very angry Opera Ghost to notice that I was there. It took a while, and I stood there shaking in my boots the entire time, fighting off the urge to cry.

"E-Phantom." I finally said after getting rather impatient. It was loud enough for him to hear and he slowly turned to look at me. My breathing became quite shallow and impossibly rapid as he stomped down the stairs of the lair and came closer to me, his mouth set in a firm line. I wanted to tell him that he could rip his stitches by doing all of this if he already hadn't, but I held my tongue; I was in enough trouble as it was.

"You…you…" Erik stuttered out. He was fuming and he seemed to be having a lot of trouble finding the right word to describe his feelings for me right now that was insulting enough. I winced and closed my eyes, not wanting to find out what happened to those who messed with the Phantom. He sighed, his shoulders relaxing before giving me a horrible, dirty glare that could probably rust metal. "Explain." He commanded and I took a shaky breath.

"I- I went out i-in to the city today." I told him slowly as his anger began to build. "I-I didn't leave a note telling you where I was going because I thought you were going to be sleeping for a long time. That note was the one that I wrote on the night of Ill Muto when I escaped, I kept it in my pocket and it sort of fell out." I told him as his gaze didn't soften. If anything, it grew even harder, even more piercing.

"I woke up to a silent home, and when I tried to find you, I found this instead." He un-crumpled the note that he had clutched in his fist and held it to his eye-level so he could read it.

_You're in for it now, girl. _Sixty whispered to me from inside my brain and I resisted the urge to smack my forehead. He didn't sing as Mme. Giry did, but it was still really, really weird.

"_Phantom,_

_You're stupid to think you can keep me here. I'm not that stupid so by the time you read this, I will be gone. Did you really expect me to sit quietly while I waited to die? I bloody well think not! Goodbye, good luck, and good riddance to you!_

_-Annika Walters" _

Erik spat out the last words and I flinched again. I sighed quietly as he threw the newly-crumpled note across the room and glared down at me with such a fiery hatred that I thought I would be dead in around six seconds. I waited for his lasso to grip around my throat, and it never did. I slowly opened one eye, and then the other, which was oddly strange, as I never even realized I closed them, and I found Erik still in the same place, except the anger in his eyes had dulled to disappointment.

"Listen, I'm sorry I wrote those horrible things, but I was angry, and I did have a very good reason for leaving today." I told him, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders, although Erik did not look convinced at all.

"And what is this 'good reason'?" He asked and it was my turn to glare.

"I can't tell you!" I exclaimed with maybe a little bit too much confidence for a few seconds later, the glare returned and I shrunk a little bit. "What I meant to say was; it's a surprise." I told him.

"Whatever this 'good reason' is, it came from my money box!" He shouted and again I winced as he turned and raised his hand to hit me. Again, the blow never came for he exhaled and lowered his fist, calming down for the time being.

I knew that I'd have to tell him the truth, I was treading in superbly dangerous waters as it were, I couldn't afford to add lying to the already long list of reasons why he would decide to kill me. "I got you a gift to make you feel better, I didn't have any money so I took it from you. That's why I left and I had every intention of coming back. As for the note, well, I was angry." I caved told him. I took a breath and closed my eyes.

"You intended to return?" He asked skeptically and I nodded.

"Of course I did, I couldn't leave you alone down here." I told him the gentlest possible way. Erik's shoulders sagged a little bit and it seems as though my reason for returning didn't fly with him.

"You returned because you pity me?" He asked, sounding somewhat hurt and I sighed, shaking my head.

"Hell no. You don't need pity, you need compassion" I paused to take a breath. "And leaving you here without any implication of where I had gone was not very compassionate of me. I apologize." I was never very good at saying sorry because deep, deep down inside of me whenever I'd done something that required an apology before, I was never very sorry.

When I scratched the shit out of Jeremy's face when I was five, they made me apologize, but I never meant it; to me, the bratty little boy got what he deserved. When I tried to kill my physical therapist; they made me say I was sorry, again, I didn't mean it because to me, and more specifically to Sycamore, the bitch had it coming to her.

But what was odd was that I genuinely felt bad for deserting Erik, even if it was only for a few hours. I didn't know why, as I knew that he was a horrible, murderous kidnapper, but I really did feel bad for doing that to him. I didn't pity him, as he didn't need it, but I did feel bad for putting him through more Hell.

"Anyway, I came back, and I did get you something." I said as happily as I could and Erik seemed a bit intrigued.

"Why did you do this?" He asked in a skeptical vice and I shrugged.

"I thought that what with my crappy job as a surgeon, you might feel better if I brought you a little something." I said coolly. Erik, who seemed to have calmed down a bit from his rage, seemed a tad surprised at this.

"That's very kind of you." He said in a voice that sounded border-line odd coming from him.

"You're going to rip your stitches." I told him out of nowhere and he looked at me for a few seconds like I was off my rocker. "Your stitches, you've been moving around so much that you'll rip them if you already haven't!" I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world which, in my defense, it was. "Oh, come on!" I exclaimed; grabbing his arm and leading him back up the stairs to the bed room. He was slow-going, which made sense, and I had to remind myself to be gentle with him, as even though he had probably already ripped every single stitch I made, if he hadn't, rushing him would not be a good way to make sure that stayed that way.

Actually, the gaunt look that accompanied Erik the days he was asleep was gone, which was encouraging to see, and he sure as Hell didn't give off the sick puppy vibe anymore, which was awesome, as it felt really, really unnatural to see Erik as a human being who could in fact be brought down by a stab-wound. I didn't really understand then, but I found it really hard to see him as human, as the man was so engrossed by his 'Opera Ghost' façade that he literally almost was one.

He didn't look as ill as before, and although no colour was present in his cheeks, and I had to face the fact that there never would be, his eyes weren't as glassy, and he didn't wince as often. I allowed myself to dream that maybe I had done a good job sewing him up and he could possibly be healing.

I was relieved to find out that Erik hadn't ripped his stitches as all by pulling a Godzilla, a fact that made me breathe a sigh of relief as I told myself that I wouldn't, no, couldn't go through that kind of stress again.

He claimed that he wouldn't go to sleep again, as he had been doing so for the past few days, and so I merely agreed and made sure that he was comfortable. He sat down beside his bed, sighing and leaning his head back on the wooden bed frame behind him. I wondered if he wanted to take off his mask and curiosity gripped me once more. I just had to ask, how could I not? And so, I took a deep breath and readied myself for the plunge.

"E-Phantom," I began but he cut me off.

"You are free to call me by my name." He said and my eyes widened a little bit. Christine never even knew the Phantom's name, but in her defence, she never hung out with him long enough to find out what it was exactly.

"Okay, Erik." I said, trying it out. It felt kind of weird to say it in front of him, but I went with it, after all, I was trapped in a parallel universe based off of a book. "You can call me Annika or just Ann if you like." I told him as casually as I could.

"Ann" he said, breaking eye contact with me for a moment. "It is a beautiful name." He finally decided and I couldn't help it, I blushed. I'd never really been complimented before, and the fact that Erik was the first one was shocking. Of course, he had to kill it. "But, it is improper for a man of my age to address someone as young as you so informally." I knew he was bull-shitting me for some reason, I didn't know why.

"Erik, I'm the same age a Christine! Besides, I've seen you topless, let's face it, we're there, and we've reached that point!" I exclaimed and he still seemed a bit like he was on pins and needles.

"I believe you wished to ask me something?" He asked and I sighed. He was trying to change the subject. Oh well, I did want to know so I let it slide.

"Erik, would you… ever consider letting me see what your face looks like?" I asked, instantly realizing that it sounded much, much better in my head where awkward pauses that follow immediately afterwards do not exist.

Erik didn't freak out as I expected him to; in fact, he handled it like a real gentleman.

"I would show you my face, but I find myself if an unfortunate predicament." He said coolly and I raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the floor.

"And what's that?" I asked skeptically and Erik's stony face turned up into an odd sort of smirk, like he had this sick private joke with himself.

"I don't have a face!" He exclaimed, his twisted smirk morphing into a demented laughter that sounded a bit like he was being choked. It was ghastly and scared me a bit, but it was also short lived. When Erik regained control of his teetering sanity, I had to go and fuck things up further.

"Yes you do!" I said, trying to blow off his previous claims as silly. "Come on, it can't be that bad." I said in a tone that was a tad to cheery. Erik sobered and looked me right in the eye, regret and seriousness that I hadn't seen before on his face.

"My dear, yes it is." I couldn't argue with that. It was his choice, I promised myself I wouldn't be like Christine and force him into something he wasn't ready for; I knew he had his secrets and it almost hurt that he wanted to keep them from me, but it was really no surprise.

"Okay then." I caved, not wanting to push the subject anymore. Erik seemed grateful that I backed off and after a few minutes of solid silence, I stood up to leave. Strangely, Erik stopped me.

"Would you stay, if only more a moment?" He asked as I reached the door. I looked back to him, my mind blown, but instead of questioning him, I gave him a small smile.

"I don't see why not." I replied, returning to my space on the floor. It was then that I realized that the man sitting before me was just that; a man, not a ghost, not a Phantom, just a man, a man named Erik.


	16. Chapter 16: Of Songs and Dreams

**A/N: This daily update thing will end with winter break this coming Monday; I need you to know this. This chapter does have a song, and I hope at least one of you had seen Moulin Rouge, because it will be easier for you if you have. If not, well I'm pretty sure I've insulted your intelligence by spelling it out for you, so you guys will be just fine. Our disclaimer is read today by a new, human Thing named Symmetry. I was so interested by the name of one of my reviewers; symmetry888, that I just had to ask them if I could use it. They said yes, thank goodness, and so Symmetry will be reading the disclaimer; **

**Symmetry: The Incredible Nameless Wonder doesn't have the legal rights to the Phantom of the Opera; those legitimate documents lie with Andrew Lloyd Webber, and try as I might, I have not been able to procure the real thing or a bootleg just yet. **

**Me: Thank you! And a very special thanks to Nakia-Park23 for my 60th review! To the rest of you readers; please enjoy, and please review!**

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**_Chapter Sixteen: Of Songs and Dreams_**

"Do you sing?" Erik asked me when I sat down and I shook my head. I never really could sing, my voice was way too deep for almost all songs. Erik wouldn't like it, he trained soprano's, not female tenors.

"No, no I can't sing at all." I replied quickly and he cocked an eyebrow.

"I believe that everyone can sing if they are born with the music in them." He coaxed but I didn't give in, he wouldn't win me over so easily.

"Consider me lacking it greatly then." This completely true statement earned a soft, quick laugh from Erik, who was sitting opposite from me, but still he persisted.

"I shall sing for you, if you sing for me." He attempted to strike a bargain and while it was very, very tempting, I shuddered at the thought of me singing in front of someone I didn't want to drop dead. But still, I longed to hear Erik's legendary voice, the stuff of angels it was called. If I had to go through with a bit of bitter embarrassment to get to hear it, well then, so be it.

"There is one song I know." I said quietly and he seemed quite interested suddenly.

"Pray, do tell." He said and I suppressed a blush of embarrassment at the horror that was about to go down.

"It's called El Tango De Roxanne." I said in a shaky voice and he Erik appeared to be very, very curious.

"What is it about?" I shrugged, playing with a torn piece of fabric from my pants.

"It's about a man who falls in love" I paused as Erik almost smiled, but of course I had to kill it, "with a prostitute." Erik's face morphed into that of disgust quickly.

"Repulsive." He hissed. "But, if that is the song you wish." I nodded and cleared my throat, straightening my back. I started off low as my voice hits all the deep notes, never going too high.

"_Roxanne_,

_You don't have to put on that red light,_

_Walk the streets for money,_

_You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right."_

I grimaced as my voice filled the room and I didn't dare look at Erik, the humiliation is too much to bear, but I continued, after all, he asked for this, I wanted nothing to do with it.

_"Roxanne,_

_You don't have to wear that dress tonight,_

_Roxanne,_

_You don't have to sell your body to the night."_

I didn't dare go any higher for the next verse in case my voice cracked from my nerves, but I work up the courage to go a note higher for the upcoming verse.

_"His eyes upon your face,_

_His hand upon your hand,_

_His lips caress your skin,_

_It's more than I can stand."_

I shied away from the higher notes and replaced them with deeper ones as I was suddenly aware of just how much I sounded like a man with sore throat attempting to sing and failing on many, many levels.

_"Roxanne,_

_Why does my heart cry?_

_Roxanne,_

_Feelings I can't fight._

_Roxanne,_

_Feelings I can't fight,_

_You're free to leave me,_

_But just don't deceive me_

_And please,_

_Believe me when I say,_

_I love you."_

I finished on a shaky note as I didn't want to bother with the Spanish lyrics that I didn't know. I wouldn't dare raise my eyes to look up at Erik, I kept them firmly focused on my lap as Erik clears his throat, trying to get my attention but I ignore him.

"Where did you hear this song?" He asked and I smile in a weird sort of way.

"Smart man, avoiding stating your opinion on my voice. In answer to your question, I heard that particular song from an old play called Moulin Rouge a long, long time ago." I replied in a dull voice. I was lying, Moulin Rouge was a movie made a few years ago in my real time.

"I have never heard of such a performance, where did you see it?" I was suddenly aware of how I'd pretended for the longest time that I had amnesia, and Erik seemed to be noticing that I was lying.

"I-I can't remember." I told him, rushing the words. He seemed to notice how uncomfortable he was making me and did nothing to cease the action.

"Ah yes, you have… amnesia. Is there nothing you can remember?" He asked. My mind froze for a minute as I tried to stutter out a reply.

"N-no, just my name, where I came from and the odd little things that pop up out of nowhere." I told him and he backed off from the uncomfortable subject, probably as a thank you for not pushing him to take of his mask.

The silence reigned supreme for the next little while, and it was my turn to change the subject. "I always thought the song was similar to your life." I said casually and Erik seemed offended.

"I would not fall in love with a lady of the night." He spat out and I shrugged.

"No, I didn't mean that, I just meant the meaning of it. The man, who loved her, killed her because he can't trust her, she is a prostitute after all, and because he can't trust her, there is no love. Jealousy will drive you mad." I whispered the last bit and Erik said nothing, so I continued. "You can't trust Christine, not any more anyway, and because there is no trust, there is no love in your relationship any more. Perhaps you don't love her at all." I couldn't bring myself to stop talking and I regretted it as soon as I said it.

"Get out." Erik said after an awkward pause. I didn't want to, Hell, I was actually enjoying our time together, but Erik seemed angry beyond all reason with what I had to say. He clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes, rage bubbling up beneath the surface of his skin I did as he said, standing and getting out of the room as fast as possible. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my breathing heavy.

"Nice dob, smart one." The voice of Shock rang through the lair as she took a seat on the bench in front of Erik's organ.

"Oh shut up!" I snapped, making her pout a little bit.

"It's not my fault; you are the one who never did learn how to control her big mouth!" Shock argued and I rolled my eyes, flouncing off to the red chair and taking a seat.

"That is what he needs to hear, he doesn't love Christine, and he actually can't until he trusts her!" I exclaimed, trying to stay quiet so that Erik didn't overhear at least my part of the conversation.

"I know, but there's nothing you can do about it." Shock told me and granted; she did have a point.

"Maybe there is. If I went and maybe talked with Christine then I could change her mind and she could look at Erik again." Back then, it seemed like a great idea, and I probably would've done it too, if Shock had not stopped me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Annie, listen to yourself, if you leave, Erik won't forgive you again." She said and again she had a perfectly valid point, I really hated when that happened.

"Fine, I won't go, but I doubt that he'll forgive me anyway." I said, getting a little moody. Shock stood up and floated over to me, her black heels hovering just a few inches above the ground. I slumped back into the old, faded chair and sighed as she knelt down beside me and brushed a few stray locks of blond hair out of my eyes. She gave me a warm smile and a kiss on the forehead before rising once more and heading towards the lake.

"He just needs to think, Annie. Get some sleep, okay?" I nodded and she disappeared below the water's surface, leaving me to close my eyes and dream.

* * *

_I was in a circular room. The floor was tiled with chipped black and white pieces of square slate and the walls were a dark purple fading in black as well, with a large, obsidian chandelier burning white flame hanging from the ceiling that was tiled as the floor was. I was sitting on a dark, dark red sofa that looked to be antique, and in front of me was a crystal table with a vase filled with dead roses. _

_I peered around, growing accustomed to the half-light that the chandelier gave off when I saw a medium-sized form cloaked in darkness in the corner. I put a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming as the figure glided across the floor. _

_My fear faded away to a dull discomfort as more and more of the mysterious person was able to be seen. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but something wasn't right about her. It took me a few seconds to see it, but I eventually noticed that the left side of her body was entirely cased in metal. _

_It wrapped around her left arm, the left side of her face and the left side of her torso, spilling out at her left hip to form the metal half of a skirt. Her hair was one metal entity, with no individual threads that made curls that hung to her lower back, and her left eye, in stark contrast to her right eye, was a deep, bloody red. _

_The right eye was a crystal-clear, forest green, and the skin that wasn't covered by metal was flawless and creamy-pale in tone. Her upper-half was covered by a blue dress that matched her left side, but it was made of fabric instead of metal that also spilled out at her hips to form a ball-gown-like skirt. The left side of her scalp had real hair that was a dark burgundy in colour, with soft curls looping around each other and falling in such a way that the division between hair and metal was seamless. _

_She smiled at me, the right side of her mouth that didn't have any makeup turning up into a warm grin while the left side of her face remained stony and fixed. I tried to smile back, but found that I couldn't; making the strange girl that looked to be around seventeen laugh. _

_"W-who are you?" I asked and she smiled brighter. _

_"I'm Symmetry, Persis." She said in a voice that was wheezy and felt unused, like reeds blowing in the wind and the sound of it sent shivers down my spine. _

_"And where am I?" I realized how distant my voice was, like I was shouting down a long, long hallway. _

_"We are in the waiting room." She told me calmly, her bare feet hovering around six and a half inches from the black and white tiled ground. _

_"What is the waiting room?" I asked and she shook her head, inter-locking her flesh fingers with her metal ones behind her back. _

_"I can't tell you, you'll get scared." She whispered and it was my turn to shake my head. _

_"No I won't, I promise." I whispered back, scooting closer towards her. Symmetry back up a few paces and shook her head again. _

_"It's not a happy story." She pleaded, which didn't throw me, it only fuelled the flames of my burning curiosity. _

_"Please, tell me anyway." I asked as politely as I could, my patience wearing thin. The cyborg-teenager sighed and her shoulders slumped as she sucked in a sharp breath before beginning. _

_"The waiting room is a place in your mind, dear Persis, it is where Things that appear human wait before being called in to surrender their will to Sycamore and become rats, become part of her army." She said, making me feel very confused. I hoped it didn't show as I tried to work the new information that was given to me out. _

_"So Things start out as humans?" I asked in a freaked out voice and Symmetry nodded. _

_"Yes. Usually it's quite crowded in here, but I can't say I'm complaining, most of the other Things fight." She said in a dismal voice and my curiosity was again peaked. _

_"Fight, why?" I asked and she nodded. _

_"They don't want to be a rat. Lately, the numbers have been growing. There is talk of Sycamore building an army." Symmetry said. This new bit of info was especially difficult to deal with. _

_"Does this have anything to do with her plan?" I asked and Symmetry's eyes widened. _

_"H-how did you…? No, I can't say, I've said too much." Her tone was desperate and grew even hoarser as she suddenly stiffened._

_"Symmetry, what's wrong?" I asked, but she didn't reply. She turned and began to float towards the door on the far wall, her body looking like she wanted to fight it. _

_"Go." Was the last thing she said before the door opened and she entered. I couldn't she what was beyond it, because it was way too dark, but in a strange way, I didn't want to. _

_I decided to make myself scarce, and so I reached my right arm over to my left and gave myself a sharp pinch. I felt myself leave the red sofa I was on and all too soon, I was falling. _

* * *

I woke up with a start and clutched at my chest, trying to slow my heart beat as I registered what was going on around me. I was back in the lair, safe and sound. Even though I was back in the 'real world', I knew that my dream wasn't fake, Sycamore was up to something, and she was building an army of rats.

Well, if she did decide to use her plan, I didn't worry too much. If and when she put it in to action, Goblin, Sixty, Shock, Jinx, Scissors and I would be there, and we would be ready


	17. Chapter 17: The Music Lives in Him

**A/N: Another update. Not much happens in this chapter except for Annika/Erik interaction, but these things must happen in order to further character development. I've decided that today's disclaimer will be stated by Buffy Summers, all the way from Sunnydale in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom!**

**Buffy: The Incredible Nameless Wonder owns nothing from this fandom or the books and movies that have been listed. No copyright infringement law can be broken here now that I've said that, so don't even bother.**

**Me: Read on, fellow Phans, read on….**

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**_Chapter Seventeen: The Music Lives In Him_**

After the initial shock of my horrific dream/nightmare thing, initial shock that had me curled up into a ball crying, mind you, the thing on my mind was making up with Erik.

I didn't mean to piss him off or whatever I did because I fucked with his brain a few times before, and the outcome was, as you all now know, less than awesome. I sighed and stood up from the chair, stretching my arms way above my head and cracking my back as per the usual ritual. I yawned and stumbled away from the chair towards the door, quickly running my hands through my messy hair that really could do with another wash before I raised a hand to knock on the door.

I was very glad that I'd made sure the puffiness around my eyes and the blotchiness of my face had faded considerably before I attempted to make amends with the Opera Ghost, as I didn't want to have to answer any questions. I finally moved the fist I'd raised to knock three times on the broken door, knowing that I could have easily just walked in if I really wanted to, as back then it didn't really have a lock system.

I held off though, as I was trying to make amends with the man, not invade his privacy and possibly drive him to murderous actions, I wasn't that stupid after all. I waited for what felt like forever before knocking again, tapping my foot against the wet ground in annoyance, making a hollow sound that echoed softly throughout the glorified cave.

All too soon however, my wait was over and my impatience ended for the door swing open five minutes later. I sucked in a breath and found my eyes looking at my feet as Erik appeared in the door way. I was suddenly aware of just how much I looked like a little girl who'd done something bad and was about to get scolded by an adult, and in a way, I was, I wasn't of legal age, and Erik was _way _older than me.

I stopped myself. I didn't know how old Erik was, the book never actually said how old he was, but it was supposed to be something crazy like fifty. The man in front of me did not, I repeat, did not look fifty, in fact he barely looked to be in his early thirties!

Anyway, I didn't really want to look at Erik, but I knew that I would have to eventually, and Goblin graciously reminded me that there was no time like the present. I grumbled mentally and allowed myself to raise my line of vision to Erik's eyes. They were not filled with hate or anger or sadness or anything really, they were blank and unreadable as his expression, as if he wanted to see how I would make it up to him before letting his emotions be known to me.

"I-I'm sorry." I said after a moment's pause and Erik sighed. I looked right at him again to find his icy blue eyes filled with disappointment. It still hurt to see that, but at least is was better than rage, anything was better than rage, I never wanted him to be mad at me again, yet here I was, apologizing after making a huge mistake of epic proportions again.

"You say that too often." He replied in a voice that held an emotion I could not place. Either way, his tone, although I couldn't sense the feeling behind it, filled me with the amazing hope that perhaps he could forgive me again and we could possibly be friends.

"That's because I make too many mistakes." I replied softly, fidgeting slightly and clasping my hands together behind my back. Erik sighed again and put a hand on the door frame, leaning against it and keeping the door wide open.

"You are young, to expect any more of you would merely result in even more disappointment." Erik admitted. I was sure that he meant it to be a comfort to me but back then, it only intensified my fear, as he admitted that he was upset with me. My heart sunk as I realized this and regardless, Erik seemed to notice my distress, for he un-tensed his shoulders and the look in his eyes softened. "But, I do accept your apology." He finally said and my heart skipped a beat on the way back up. I found a smile working its way onto my lips and for a second, I almost caught a flash of one tugging slightly on the edge of Erik's mouth, but it was gone before I could be absolutely sure, so I decided to let it go.

"Thank you." I told him and more silence filled the still air. I was suddenly reminded of a promise that he had made to me, and it seemed as though now was the very best time to bring it up. "Erik, it's time for you to hold up your end of the deal." I told him, my grin turning to a smirk and he sighed and nodded.

He didn't offer me his arm, which felt a little bit like a punch in the stomach, but I sucked it up and realized that I wasn't entirely forgiven yet as he helped himself down the stairs towards his organ. He looks surprised at the state of the place when he finally gets there and sits down, prompting me to speak up.

"I clean up a bit when you were asleep before I…left." I said quietly and he nodded solemnly.

"Did you read any of it?" He asked and I didn't know how to respond, I just decided to stick with my not lying theory, even though I obviously was about my backstory.

"Yes, I read a small scene from Don Juan Triumphant." I flinched, expecting Erik to be angry, but instead, he looked almost pleased.

"And what did you think of it?" He asked and things began to fall into place. He seemed happy because he wanted to hear an outsider's opinion.

"I thought it was beautiful, but I think what it will do to the operagoers when they hear it will be much, much more than just merely stunning." I said, a hint of a smile forming again on my mouth.

"And what will it do?" I shrugged when he asked this.

"It will make them burn." I replied, smiling to myself at how true that was. Erik would crash the chandelier, and incidentally, he would burn the Opera house to the ground.

Erik looked at me for a few seconds before nodding. I finally noticed the barest hint of a proud smile on his lips that actually lasted as he set up some sheet music in front of him.

"Too true, my dear, too true." I was glad that I made him proud, and I took a seat nearby, waiting for him to begin.

_"Who knows when love begins, _

_Who knows what makes it start,_

_ One day it's simply there,_

_ Alive inside your heart." _

It was hard to tell how he sung, it was too early, but even still, I could tell that his voice was a sure-fire gift from God. Furthermore, I knew the song. It was the title song from Love Never Dies, the sequel to The Phantom of the Opera. This was the song that Christine would eventually sing on Coney Island, it was hard to believe that he'd been writing it this whole time.

_"It slips into your thoughts,_

_ It infiltrates your soul,_

_ It takes you by surprise,_

_ Then seizes full control."_

I let the biggest grin I'd ever smiled turn up on my lips as Erik continued to sing. It was hard to describe his voice, it was so beautiful and yet very rocky and dangerous, like nothing I'd ever heard before.

_"Try to deny it, _

_And try to protest, _

_But love won't let you go, _

_Once you've been possessed."_

I smiled even wider as he built to the chorus. I didn't even notice that I'd stopped breathing until my chest began to hurt. I immediately exhaled and tried to keep my air flow consistent, but it was hard to.

_"Love never dies,_

_ Love never falters, _

_Once it has spoken, _

_Love is yours…"_

He trailed off and stopped singing, leaving me with an empty feeling inside. I looked to him quizzically and he shook his head.

"I'm afraid it's not finished." He explained and I nodded in understanding.

"That's okay." I replied and he sat up a bit straighter.

"What did you think of it?" He asked and I thought for a moment, trying to condense how I felt into one word.

"It's definitely Erik." I replied after a little bit and it was his turn to look a little bit confused.

"What do you mean?" He asked and I shrugged.

"There's really no other word to describe it. Erik is a word I have for something that goes past the point of beautiful, and there is just so much of you in it, I can tell." I told him honestly. The Phantom of the Opera didn't reply, and so is stood up and walked off towards the book case, pondering a good title that I knew to read and busy myself with until I felt tired again.

"Thank you, Annika." I heard him say quietly. I did not think he intended for me to hear him, so I remained silent as a gaggle of butterflies migrated in my chest. I settled down in the chair in front of the miniature model of the opera house after making sure that I tucked my gift away from the world so that Erik would never find it and I opened my book.

About two or three hours later spent completely in comfortable silence, I finally finished the book I was reading. I yawned again and set it down on the bookshelf, standing up and stretching. I yearned to go to sleep again, but the dreams that I had been having were enough to make sure I never slept again in all my life, and the chair was honestly not all that comfortable to lie down in.

"You may sleep in the bed, if you wish." I heard Erik say and I looked up to him. He had been scribbling down notes onto music sheets silently, with small breaks to play a certain piece on the organ to see if it flowed, but he never sang, much to my disappointment.

"Are you sure?" I asked carefully, just in case Erik felt the least bit tired.

"I am quite certain, I'm feeling quite inspired, and I believe I shall be up all right writing lyrics." He replied and I shrugged, heading for the bed room.

"Okay, if you're cool with that." I paused when I reached the door, turning around. "Good night Erik." I said across the lair. I suspected that he did not hear me because he initially did not reply. Once again I felt my heart sink.

Just as I was about to close the door, Erik surprised me once again.

"Good night, Annika." My heart did a particularly cheerful tap-dance routine in my chest as I skipped off to bed.

My happiness however, was short-lived, for if I knew the nightmare that I was going to have, I never would have dared to go to sleep ever again at all.


	18. Chapter 18: Tainted Beauty

**A/N: Okay Phans, it's been a long, long time and before you attack me, I must take the next few sentences of your time to explain my hiatus of epic proportions. First of all, school started, and hence, my free time is gone. There is so much homework and prepping for my exams and all of this awful stuff that I hate and have to deal with. **_**  
**_

**Secondly, I dropped my laptop and my hardrive went to absolute Hell. I'm not kidding, I had to re-type this whole chapter, which was no freaking picnic! Anyway, I'm back and hopefully better, so please enjoy this chapter!**

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_**Chapter Eighteen: Tainted Beauty**_

_I was again in a room similar to the ever-mysterious 'Waiting Room'. It was circular, as before, but the wallpaper was a dark, rich red, like someone slit their throat and grabbed a paintbrush. It was slapped on the walls as if someone was doing it with their last breath, which only furthered my suspicions, but I knew that my incredibly fertile imagination was most likely running away with me and I decided not to dwell on it too much._

_The floors were not chipped black and white tiles anymore either; instead they were an expensive-looking mahogany wood, but then again, I wouldn't know what mahogany wood would look like, as I had never actually seen it before. Still, it was beautiful and I was almost afraid to walk on it. Hanging above was a chandelier like before, but it was not black anymore, instead in was strangely similar to the one hanging in the Opera house's extremely large theater, the one Erik would soon drop._

_The one thing that was the same was that I was not alone._

_It stood in against the wall, but it wasn't a beautiful, cyborg Thing, no, it was definitely a he. He was tall and broad, with a strong frame and a handsome face. Well, technically only half a handsome face, because I could only see half with the white mask. It took me two seconds to realize that it was Erik in the room._

_He lifted his left hand to his mask that stood out against his otherwise extremely handsome face and for the briefest of moments, I thought for sure I'd get to see what his face looked like. This hope was short-live however, because when he actually removed the thin piece of porcelain hiding what made his life a living Hell, there was nothing there._

_I kid you not, when he removed his mask, the left side of his face his perfectly fine and intact, not twisted or burned or scarred, just perfect and flawless, matching up with the right side._

_A smile pulls on his lips and that's when my radar goes off a little bit; any common fool would know that the Phantom of the Opera doesn't smile without reason and just out of the blue like that, something was wrong, and I suspected Sycamore._

_Dream-Erik-that-I-Really-Didn't-Trust, or just DEtIRDT as I named him, glided across the floor with his feet planted firmly on the floor, contrary to the other Things, but his movements still looked like a dance, effortless and beautiful._

_I shook myself out of it, something was off, very, very off. I shook myself back to reality when DEtIRDT held his hand out to me, as if asking me to dance. I lowered my gaze to the floor as I blushed for some unknown reason and I nodded my head, taking a few tentative steps towards him before taking his hand._

_He took it and placed his other gloved hand around my waist, pulling me around the dance floor. It was a graceless dance, mostly because I have two left feet, and it felt very wrong, only I didn't know why._

_"Erik, I love to dance, really I do, but there's no music." I told him and for a second, the good-natured look on his face melted away to reveal a moment when I saw what was underneath, undeniable anger. It was scary, but in the next second, it was gone, just like that._

_DEtIRDT nodded and the evil look faded away as he smiled, which felt quite fake indeed, and turned, waving his hand. Seconds later, beautiful music flooded into the room played by a violin and an organ. It came from everywhere, with no indication of any music-speakers at all or anything that was controlling it. It infiltrated my mind and dulled my senses, making me smile like an idiot and giggle a small bit._

_It was like I was hopped up on medication once again and it felt absolutely and totally wonderful. DEtIRDT was so handsome and all I could see were his eyes, it just never occurred to me how dead and cold they looked, like he was a possessed corpse. He hadn't spoken yet, but I couldn't find the will in me to question why he remained quiet, I didn't mind, I just listened to the sound of the music and danced around in slow circles._

_Everything was perfect, completely, one-hundred-percent perfect until..._

_"We have her, Mistress." It was these words that shattered the bubble of happiness I was dancing in. They came from DEtIRDT, and it wasn't in Real-Erik's beautiful, smooth voice, no these were spat out in a horrible, choked hissing noise that came from the 'man' in front of me._

_I pulled away from it instantly, finding myself completely incapable of gracing the monstrous, evil imposter with a set gender. My face must've been disgusted for what ever it was, it attempted to calm me._

_"Don't be afraid Per-Annika." That was all that it took, I whipped around, and raised a fist to punch it square in the jaw, but it caught my hand, twisting my arm around behind my back. I thrashed around but it only tightened its impossibly strong grip. I briefly wondered what it was and I knew that no Thing was this strong, this was something new, and Sycamore had it in her power._

_My mouth fell open, screams ripping from my lungs as a hole in the expensive wood ground began to burn open, like acid was corroding it away. I tried to hold my ground as it pushed me towards the opening, intending to throw me in, but in a sudden burst of adrenaline, I was able to wrench myself from its grip._

_My nails clawed at its face, making long scratches that bled sour, black blood. The blue eyes of Erik turned a deep, dark yellow as it howled in pain, flailing its arms around before it finally succeeded in its task._

_I fell backwards, right into the opening in the wood floor, falling down, down, down forever._

* * *

I woke up screaming. It was loud and blood-curdling; so loud in fact, that I was shocked that I didn't go deaf from being exposed to it for so very long. I didn't care how loud I was, all I cared about was getting out all the fear and the pain that I felt when I saw Erik that way.

I knew then that if the Phantom of the Opera ever did show me his face, I wouldn't scream or be afraid, because I'd seen him without a deformity, and there was nothing more frightening than that terrible sight.

It was also then that I realized just why Erik even had a problem with his face; there was too much good in him, and the bad that made us human, had to go somewhere, so instead of settling in his soul, where most of the evil lay, it manifested in his face. I rationalized this in a matter of mere seconds, and while there was no evidence to prove it, I believed it whole-heartedly.

It was around seven seconds later when the man that I had been thinking about burst into the room. I knew that he shouldn't be running that fast, nd I would've told him to slow down, but another scream that I couldn't control was ripped from my lungs.

Erik stopped immediately and took a step back. Even more fear flashed through my crowded mind.

He thinks I'm afraid of him! I mentally shouted at myself and I forced myself to calm down enough to relax. Erik again began to edge forward and eventually, he sat down on the bed. I was shaking like crazy and tears were pouring out of my eyes, it was obvious that he wasn't used to giving another human comfort, so he didn't actually touch me, until...

I flipped when I looked up and saw him sitting in front of me with his white, half-face mask covering his deformed face, and I flipped in a good way. I didn't have time to think before my body reacted, jerking forward and throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

I don't know if Erik was ever hugged before, but he froze up like a statue, staying just as rigid. I wanted to reach up and tear off his mask, but I didn't; Erik was still the Opera Ghost, and I knew he would lose his shit if I did something he was not absolutely and totally ready for. I wasn't like Christine, I respected his boundaries, even in my post-nightmare freak-out.

"It was horrible, it was so horrible!" I sobbed but Erik remains still.

"What was?" He finally asked me and I shook my head, I couldn't tell him!

"I-I can't remember, I think it was something from before the Opera house, but I can't remember what." I lied effectively enough to get him to stop asking and drop the conversation entirely.

"I see." He merely said as he reached his pale hands behind his neck and wrenched himself from my shaky yet strong grasp. He put my hands by my sides and lightly pushed me so I was lying down again. I tugged the covers up to my chest and sighed as Erik stood up and left, without another word.

I was alone in the darkness, staring at the ceiling for the longest time, trying to go back to sleep.

I didn't know why I was so disappointed that he just up and went, I mean, the man was my captor after all, and yet lately, I'd been so happy when he would just talk to me. He allowed me to call him by his real name, and Christine didn't even know what it was, and he hadn't killed me yet.

I had to stop myself, thinking it over, it sounded like I had Stockholm syndrome, and yet, once again, I didn't care, I liked Erik a lot, more than a lot in fact.

Could I love him?

No, no it wasn't possible to love him, I just couldn't, he loved Christine, I was just some nut who happened to be stupid enough to try and purposely find him. Thinking about it only made me even more confused and I didn't want to think about it, so I rolled over and tried to calm my breathing and work out what was going on.

I didn't know what to think; everything was just so blurred, I didn't know up from down, left from right, my whole world was messed-up.

With the way I was acting, someone from the outside probably would infer I was in love anyway, but I couldn't accept that, and even if I did, it's not like he could ever love me back.

What Angel of Music would want a girl who couldn't even sing?


	19. Chapter 19: The Talk

**_Chapter Nineteen: The Talk_**

Erik healed considerably over the course of the next week. I however, was diminishing.

Most of my days were spent wracking my brain on just what the Hell Sycamore could be planning, because it was something huge, something tremendously huge and I was beyond scared. She was building an army of... something, or some Things, Things that, oddly enough, called me Persis.

None of them usually called me Persis but her and her alone, recently, that had changed. The Things that attacked me in the lair were bigger, and much, much more menacing, with their bodies reaching the size of a toaster instead of the regular loaf of bread.

She also had Evil Erik.

Just thinking about it made shivers run up and down my spine, shaking me inside out from pure fear. It was nerve-wracking to know that she had obviously been breeding a new bloody race without me ever knowing it. And what was troubling was that she knew what could get to me.

I didn't even think twice before accepting Evil Erik's offer to dance, she had counted on my lack of suspicion, she knew I had had a weak spot for him for some time, and quite possibly she knew before I even did.

This wasn't really all that surprising, as Sycamore did live in my mind and probably had access to certain parts of my brain that held information that I didn't even know yet, it was a depressing thought, but I couldn't rule it out.

One day, I finally snapped.

"Erik." I asked in a flouncy manner. He was sitting by his organ, scribbling down the nonsense that was in his head that he would later translate to regular music, I often teased him later on that he had his own language that only he could read, he liked that idea very much, and personally, it was true.

Anyway, I huffed and came up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder when he didn't reply. I knew that I shouldn't be acting as spoiled as I was, but I had cabin fever, and I was about to start singing the song from The Muppet's on Treasure Island if I didn't get out soon!

"Yes?" He asked, not turning around.

"Erik, I'm going squirrely down here!" I cried, making a small smile tug at his lips as he continued to write.

"It is an acquired life, Annika, it's tragic that you did not take into account that you were not accustomed to it before you decided to barter your freedom." He replied coolly, making me roll my eyes.

"Come on, I have to find something new to wear or else I'll end up dying of boredom in these clothes!" I exclaimed and he shook his head.

"I allow you to roam free amongst my belongings unbound, don't you think that is generous enough of me?" I groaned, but didn't back down. I needed to get my hands on my old dresses, I'd been wearing the old Ill Muto costume for too long.

"For Pete's sake, give me a bloody hour!" I shouted. Erik didn't reply and so I skulked off, muttering about the unfairness of it all, much to the Phantom of the Opera's amusement. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the edge of the glassy lake.

Mist swirled around me, making me choke a bit as I dipped my feet in the water. The mist, I'd found, was actually just fog from the millions upon millions of candles floating on the sheer surface of the small body of water that separated me from getting what I wanted.

I didn't want to sneak off, as that would be way past stupid now, but I did want out of here, if only for a single hour.

"Please Erik, I just need to get the rest of my stuff. You never bothered to get any of it." I grumbled and Erik sighed, but he still held his composure.

"You ask much of me." He replied, still keeping calm, although I could tell that he was irked below the surface at being taken away from his art for longer than a moment.

"I do not!" I replied, "I ask just the right amount!" I exclaimed and Erik finally turned around to face me.

"If I allow you to obtain your belongings, can you promise me that you will return within the hour?" He asked and my eyes widened. I nodded quickly and let out a happy little noise. I resisted the urge to hug him as I stood up from the lake's edge and hopped into the boat.

I was off like a speeding bullet, paddling away, not even caring enough to be quiet. I was so happy that I would finally be able to get out after a week of suppression.

Not that Erik suppressed me, as he allowed me to do what ever the bloody Hell I wanted, when ever the bloody Hell I wanted! But he wouldn't let me out, granted I had been way to afraid before to ask.

I had successfully avoided thinking about the thought that I had the night that I had the nightmare about normal Erik. I'd convinced myself that it was absolutely and utterly hopeless to dwell on, even if it was true.

I may be in love with Erik, but it wasn't practical or even possible that he would love me back, he had Christine, or at least, he did.

I shook myself out of it and continued to paddle away from the lair, Erik's voice following me from behind. I loved the way he would sing sometimes, just out of the blue and then he would stop, and wait a few more days until he knew that I would just die if I didn't hear his voice.

It was kind of funny the way he would like to painlessly torture me, but then again, I was not exactly guiltless either.

I found that I didn't have to walk on pins and needles the way I thought I did before, as it seemed Erik had gotten some what used to me over the course of the two or three weeks I'd spent with him. I was glad of this because even though I'm sure he didn't get me, I could be myself around him, as long as I wasn't too loud, as he told me he would be very cross with me if he had to kill another stage hand if one found their way down here after hearing all my racket.

Needless to say, I really resented this remark, but the man made some sense, so I just shut up and listened. I found that the two of us could get along much, much better if I did just that; shut up for once in my life, and listen to the master of quietness.

I was actually anything but quiet as I rode the boat down the lake, making the necessary twists and turns as the cave did before I came to the end. I jumped out of the boat and sped up the lake shore before coming to the tunnel.

I ran up the stone steps and up the winding passage way. I turned at the fork in the hall way and headed towards Christine's mirror, where I knew my room was just down the hall. I didn't want to go the other way to the stage, just in case someone was hanging around, and as I saw it, I'd much rather face Christine than a burly, most likely drunk, stage hand.

I pushed open the mirror lightly, trying to be as silent as possible so that I wouldn't alert Christine should she be in her dressing room sleeping. I crept into the room, breathing a sigh of relief when I found it to be empty.

I opened the door on the other side of the dressing room, stepping out into the hall way and checking its entity before turning and running down to the costume room that had been mine during my brief stay here.

The door was unlocked, thank goodness, and when I walked in, almost nothing had changed. Actually, that was a lie. The bed was gone, but my old green dress was still on the chair, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the gold dress was still forgotten in the closet.

I changed into my green dress, hating the way I felt in the dirty old costume I'd worn for too long to count, and when I was dressed once again, I went over to the cupboard, pulling out the gold dress.

"Maybe I'll cut it." I thought to myself, as it was still ripped near the bottom, and way to long to wear.

I picked up the pair of blue high heels that were still there after all this time, and took off the worn, black ballet shoes that had been on my feet for some time. It felt nice to wear something feminine once again.

The last thing I did before leaving was walk over to the drawer.

I opened the compartment and reached my hand inside, pulling out the notes that Erik had given me. The Phantom of the Opera had allowed me to have a small box to store what little trinkets I had, and in it was a few hair ties and the choker he'd given me. I intended for the notes to find their proper place amongst my other treasures as well and as soon as I collected my belongings, or at least, the belongings nobody else really wanted and that I claimed, I left.

I was just about to go back to Christine's dressing room when I felt someone with really dry hands clamp onto my wrist.

I turned around, resisting the urge to scream and half-expecting the ghost of Joseph Buquet, but instead I saw something quite different and much more frightening, given the circumstances.

It was Mme. Giry, her face pale and livid standing behind me, holding onto my wrist so tight I thought she might break it. Her whole appearance seemed to have aged maybe five years since last we met, as a few new wrinkles were present, giving away her advancing age.

"What are you doing, Mademoiselle?" She hissed at me and I tried to shake her arm of and run, but she held fast and refused to let me go anywhere.

"Wait, stop, I need to get back!" I exclaimed, and she squeezed my arm to get me to quiet down.

"You are returning to the Opera Ghost?!" She asked with much disbelief and I nodded.

"I have to." I told her quietly. "I want to." Her glare was icy as she looked me over, seemingly guessing as to why I was up here.

"You are foolish, The Ghost is not one to be trusted, and he does not trust you as well, I am sure, his past has made sure that he does not expect you to return." She told me and I shook my head. I turned and gripped her wrist in turn.

"Then tell me of his past, tell me his story, I will prove him wrong." I said quietly. Mme Giry seemed hesitant, before gripping tighter to me and pulling me down the hall way.

"Follow me." She whispered and I really didn't have a choice as she pulled me into her office.


	20. Chapter 20: I've Lost My Mind

**A/N: Hello everybody. I'm so scared about this chapter because, well, you'll see. Anyway, this chapter includes Erik's back-story that I have made up entirely. I am not using the Devil's Child back-story from the movie, I dreamed this one up somehow. Please enjoy!**

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_**Chapter Twenty:** __**I've Lost My Mind**_

"Okay, okay okay!" I exclaimed, when Mme. Giry pulled me into her office and slammed the door shut behind her. I whipped around, getting a bit defensive just in case the ballet mistress wanted to bludgeon me to death with her odd-looking lamp. A strange suspicion, I know, but I keep in mind that I was standing in Mme. Giry's office in the first place, which was crazy enough.

The room was dimly lit with dark pink walls and little sconces shaped like the shells I found when Mom and I went to the beach once. The room curved to the right and down a small flight of two or three steps, there was another section of the room in front of me, filled with the most obscure items imaginable. One could say that Mme. Giry was a hoarder, as most of the stuff around the room looked like junk, but she gazed at all of it with a faint, loving expression of her weary face.

There was a bust of a young woman sitting on a counter, and little black and white photographs of people were littered in picture frames on the cabinets every where. Candles lit the room in a ghostly way as I took in the rest of her things. An odd little carpet bag sat by the door, and a little pair of ballet shoes that were ripped and worn with age were strung up like a wall hanging. Delicate doilies covered the tops of the cabinets which had an assortment of little trinket boxes all over the top right in front of a mirror.

Mme. Giry turned on her lap and walked over to one of her paintings.

Portraits of Meg Giry, the blonde little girl if I remember correctly, and a man I had never seen or met before lined the walls. She touched one of the pictures of the man on his 'cheek' and sighed lightly.

"Was that your husband?" I asked and she nodded, turning to me. A small, sad little smile was on her thin lips, which was a welcome change to her scowl that I thought was carved in stone.

"Yes, yes it was, my darling Christopher, how I miss him so, but he passed quite some time ago." She said and I felt a bit bad for her, it must be hard to raise a daughter on your own.

"He was very handsome." I told her, hoping to make her feel better and she beamed with pride.

"He was, wasn't he. I always told him that he could have any girl he wanted, but he would always reply; 'I want no one but you, Yvette.'" I smiled at her as she sat down and motioned me to do the same. "But this is my story, and you asked for that of the Opera Ghost, so I shall tell, but remember, it stays in this room." I nodded.

"I promise." I whispered, crossing my heart like I was a little girl again.

"Very well. It all began close to twenty-two years ago. I was walking to the bistro down the street with my good friends from the Opera house, I was the lead ballerina in the Corps de ballet, and we were very hungry, our cook was sick and so we slipped away from rehearsal practice to find something to eat.

"It was very dark, and the lamps had blown out in the wind, the other girls were giggling at the stories they came up with at what they would do to an attacker if he targeted them and they were so engrossed with their chatter that they missed the sound of a child crying from a nearby alley.

"I was alert and I heard it. The sound intrigued me, for it sounded so mournful and sad, that I knew I simply had to investigate. I told the other girls that I had forgotten something of much importance in my dormitory at the Opera house, and I left the group, heading towards the noise.

"When I rounded the corner, I gasped. A group of three men a few years younger than myself, had surrounded a child of eight and were beating him and harassing him! I picked up a chunk of ice from the frozen street and threw it at the back of the one who seemed to be the leader. In the dark of the night, I must have looked much older than twenty, for they ran off, most likely fearing the authorities.

"I approached the young boy quietly, and knelt down beside him. He covered his face from my view and pointed to the ground where, a few yards away, a black mask lay buried in the snow. i wiped the water from it and gave it back to him, asking his name. He told me that he was called Erik, and that he had run away from his home in the countryside when his step-father threatened to sell him to the circus." I was so curious to know what happened, but Mme. Giry stopped to think.

"What did you do?" I asked and she sighed.

"I did the only thing I could, I took him back to the Opera house and led him deep into the catacombs where he could be safe. He was so frightened, but he seemed to trust me. He told me that his step father was a monstrous man who beat him and showed him off to his gambling friends. His mother, a wicked witch who fashioned him a mask and never allowed him to see his face for fear of his ugliness." I was close to tears, how could anybody do that to a little boy!

"I hope they burn in Hell." I said quietly and she nodded in agreement.

"I said the same thing to him time and time again. He told me that he had run away, for his step father had taken him to the circus and showed him the horrors of the freak show. The vile man said he would sell him to those wicked people, because when he married his mother, it was not of his intentions to gain the spawn of Satan for a son." I gasped, who would say such a thing? Were people really that cruel? What kind of horror had the hospital shielded me from?

"You're joking" I cried and she shook her head. "You must be! How could he?!" She sighed and I quieted down.

"I asked myself the same thing many times Mademoiselle. He grew up beneath the Opera house, with little help from myself. He took the reigns and raised himself, he did not need me, or his mother, he thought he did not need anybody.

"One day, he told me he was leaving to see the world, and he did not know if he would come back. He said he was tired of living like a weasel in the ground, and that he wanted to behold the world's wonders. And so I let him leave. I wish I did not.

"When he returned, he was not the young man of fifteen with dreams of being a famous architect and composer that I had known. In his place was a cold man of twenty-one. He was gone for six years and in those sixt years, he had seen the world, and he had seen Hell." again, I was shocked. I leaned forward a little bit and brushed the hair out of my eyes.

"What happened to him?" I asked and she grew silent for a little bit.

"He went to Persia, Mademoiselle, and it was there that he grew from boy to man, it was there that he realized he could never be accepted, no matter how beautiful his music or how majestic his buildings, he did not belong in the world of the living." I began to get a bit frustrated, as she was being vague on purpose.

"Just tell me!" I exclaimed and she patted my hand to calm me down.

"He was employed for the spoiled Empress Ayesha of Persia, as she had executed her latest magician. She saw mystery in him, and admired his courage when he told her he would rather die than remove his mask. She doubted him, as she did not expect a French man to have talent in illusions, but he learned the tricks from watching the effects used in Operas, and he preformed them well. The Empress was impressed and she hired him to entertain her.

"One day, she grew impatient with him, and demanded that he take off his mask. He refused, and so she locked him away for a week with no food or water. When he was brought to her from his prison, he resisted still. She had him beaten by guards and his mask forcibly removed from his face. She laughed at his hideousness and had him brought to the center of her city." I didn't want Mme. Giry to go on, and yet, I didn't want her to stop.

"What did they do to him?" I inquired and she shuddered a bit.

"She had every one look at him for what he really was; not a great and powerful magician, not even a man, just a beast on display. He murdered the palace guards that were stationed in the square by himself - although I do not know how, Mademoiselle, I suspect adrenaline, made potent by humiliation- with their own whips and fled the scene, returning to the Opera Populaire. He adopted the Punjab lasso as his weapon of choice after that day, and found that he had a mystical bond with it, as it was what he used to make his first kill. He stayed underground and two years later, young Christine Daae came to live and train for the corps de ballet. It was love at first sight, and he tricked her into believing that he was her father's Angel of music." I grit my teeth at the mention of Christine, as I found myself disliking her more every day I got to know Erik better.

"And then?" I asked and the ballet Mistress shrugged.

"The rest you know of, Mademoiselle, I have told you his story, or at least, what I know of it, he would only tell me in small bits, I am quite certain there is more he refuses to say about, things too perverse and twisted to share." I nodded and blinked back the tears that burned in my eyes. Poor Erik, poor, poor Erik, he deserved none of that!

"Thank you, Mme. Giry, but I must be going." I said, looking at the clock and I began to panic. "He expected me back within the hour, I must go or I will be late!" I exclaimed. I didn't wait for her goodbye, I just yelled mine over my shoulder and ran from her office to Christine's dressing room. I threw open the door and shut it behind me, trying not to gag at the sight of all the flowers and the pink that stained the walls and carpet. I pushed open the mirror and tore down the hall, lifting up my golden dress so that it wouldn't get damaged.

Down the winding hallways I went, not stopping to breathe, I just couldn't. There was a horrible pain in my chest after hearing what happened to Erik, and once again I found tears burning in my eyes as visuals of him being hurt flashed in front of me.

I finally reached the lake and I jumped in the boat, paddling as fast as I could away from the shore. The pain in my chest had still yet to subside when I reached the other side to see Erik still at his organ. He turned to look at me in surprise as I jumped out of the boat.

"You spent quite a bit of time collecting your things." He said in a suspicious way and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, I got back within the hour!" I exclaimed before getting quiet. "Besides, Mme. Giry almost caught me" I lied to him, not wanting to tell him what really happened and he whipped around. It seems as though he turned around too fast, for he let out a small noise of pain before bending over and clutching his abdomen.

_Oh... my God._I sprang into action, grabbing him around his shoulders and pulling him into the bedroom.

I all bur ripped his shirt off and let out a defeated noise when the inevitable finally happened. Five of his stitches were popped, which was the cause of his pain. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that they weren't from the middle, but rather from near the end, making blood and gut spillage impossible. I quickly re-bandaged his chest up and decided that I was going to put an end to this getting up and walking around whenever he wanted.

A half an hour later, Erik was laying down in his bed, his back propped up against the swan head board. He had agreed to write his music and stay in his room from now on, His little monkey music box played in the background as I sewed a new hem onto the gold dress. I sighed and stood up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Erik looked up at me quizzically as I sighed again and shifted closer to him.

"Isn't it funny how it always ends up like this?" I asked, playing with a loose string on my dress. Erik stared at me strangley before replying.

"What do you mean?" He asked and I shrugged, moving even closer.

"I don't know, it always seems to end up with you wrapped up in bandages to keep your insides from falling out." I said quietly as another vision of Erik before that evil Empress flashed in my mind. "Sometimes" I said quietly "I think I need to be wrapped up in bandages to keep my insides from falling out." I whispered and I finally let the un-shed tears fall down my face. "I'm losing my mind." I said desperately and Erik leaned in a little closer, just a little bit, not to much, but he did.

"Why?" He asked, keeping his voice down.

"Because, I want to do this." It was then that I completely went crazy.

I closed the small amount of distance between us, and pressed my lips against his freezing ones. I closed my eyes and kissed him for a full three seconds.

He didn't kiss me back.

I pulled away from him and let out a little sob. I had to go, I couldn't stay here, everything was just too wrong. I grabbed my gold dress as Erik remained frozen and I turned and left. I never looked back, my heart wouldn't let me.


	21. Chapter 21: The Different Shades of Evil

**A/N: Hello! Here's another chapter, I hope that you enjoy, as it might be a while until the next one. I hope you don't mind. I'm happy with this chapter, and I hope that you like it. Keep those lovely reviews coming!**

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**_Chapter Twenty-One: The Different Shades of Evil_**

I took the passageway to the roof.

I didn't bother with anything else, I just dropped my gold dress and ran towards the secret hall way and got in there as fast as possible. I needed to think, and I couldn't do that with Erik right in front of me.

"Slow down, girl!" I heard Sixty shout at me, but I ignored her, in fact, I actually ran faster. I had to escape these people, I had to escape my mind.

"Wait, Annika, stop!" I ignored Goblin as well, I just blindly ran, stumbling into things and cursing. I couldn't see with the tears in my eyes and I could barely run with the damn high-heeled shoes on my feet. I paused for less than a second to kick them off and let out a noise of frustration. I kept running non-stop after that, my feet getting scraped-up by bits of stone and metal. I thought for sure that if God was kind, he'd just kill me and spare me of my uncertainty, but it seemed like he was off duty today, for no lightning came to smite me.

"I'll just have to do it myself." I breathlessly whispered as I picked up the pace. I tore past my room, picturing the roof where I could hide, and the ledge that I could jump of off. These thoughts gave me more comfort than any of the others as I stumbled down the passage way. I didn't care when I heard a ripping sound from the fabric of my dress. I didn't scream in pain when my hair caught on a nail that stuck out from the wall. I didn't feel anything, I was numb.

He didn't love me, he didn't even want to kiss me. Oh God, why did I do that? I thought to myself as tears began to spill out of my eyes and roll down my already tear-streaked face even faster. I finally reached the trap door and I jumped up as high as I could, pushing the wooden flap and hoisting myself up onto the snowy room. I instantly felt the chill through my dress, but I didn't care.

I shut the trap door with a loud bang and walked calmly over to the edge of the roof. I dug my nails into the cold stone that formed the gargoyles and the Pegasus, breathing heavily as I closed my eyes. The snow had begun to fall once again and the icy flakes felt good on my skin. I let the rest of my tears make hot trails down my cheeks as the mid-winter cold froze the watery paths that they make as they fell off the end of my face into the snow.

I didn't brush the tears I shed away, I just let them have free reign as I leaned out over the side of the barrier and sobbed. Below me, the street was bustling with life, as it was most likely rush-hour. The cute little shops with their twinkling lights and warm glows were packed full of happy people, people who weren't prisoners, people who were in their own time-period, people who weren't crazy!

I forced myself to stop, I was only upsetting myself more than I needed to. I turned and sat down on the stone wall and felt very tempted to just fall back wards and end it all, but I found that I couldn't do it. Something was stopping me, something much deeper than just my own personal fear of death. No, this was something bigger.

And that something was hope.

I'd been rejected and humiliated, but still, somewhere inside of me there was an small, almost dead scrap of hope that perhaps, Erik did feel something for me. This is what kept me from killing myself, for that hope, that tiny amount of hope that would have been insignificant for any normal human being with a brain that functions the right way meant everything to me, as it felt so much better than the biting reality.

I sat down in the snow with my back pressed up against the wall as I finally stopped crying. A hollow feeling took up residence in my heart as I put my face in my hands and just tried to calm down.

I was almost at peace and I was almost rational again; keyword, almost.

"My poor, dear Persis." All my clarity and hope was shattered when Sycamore sauntered out from behind a stone gargoyle. I was very surprised at the fact that she decided to show herself, as she usually didn't, she was usually too much of a coward, what was she up to? Did this have anything to do with her plan?

"What do you want?" I asked, pretending like I wasn't shocked. She clucked her tongue and sat down near me, a look of fake sympathy in her fiery orange eyes.

"Oh my little darling, why do you think so little of me? Tell me why you always think that I reveal myself for my gain alone?" I couldn't help it, I snorted when she said that.

"Because whenever you do reveal yourself, it is only when you could some how profit. I may be hurt, but I am not stupid." I replied, anger in my voice and her sympathetic mask fell to reveal a slimy smugness.

"I understand, but, there is someone I want you to meet." I found my curiosity peaked as she waved her hand and out from behind the very same statue of the stone gargoyle stepped the Erik from my dream, with no mask to block his fine features.

Seeing him, even if he wasn't real sent a wave of butterflies to my stomach.

"I have been fixing him, I do apologize for the dream I gave you, I merely wanted to surprise you and he was not quite ready at that time." I wanted to tell her that she was a God-awful liar, but I was so engrossed by Erik that I found that all I could do was nod in agreement.

The Erik from my dream walked towards me, his movements fluid as the real one and he knelt down in front of me, taking my hand in his.

"I love you, Annika." He said, and even his voice was perfect; rocky and rough yet smooth and lovely at the very same time. I began to wonder of Sycamore was really all that bad, I mean, she gave me what I needed, and I needed Erik so badly.

I threw my arms around the Erik-bot, and pulled him into a hug. He hugged me back immediately and didn't stop until I pulled away. Everything was just like my dream, perfect for that brief moment. It was then that I leaned in to kiss him, the way I should have kissed the real Erik.

His lips met mine and instantly, I knew it was wrong.

Erik's lips, although somewhat rough, had life hiding just beneath the surface, even if Erik considered himself a corpse, Erik-bot was different, Erik-bot was disgusting. He really was a living corpse, his skin was icy and he tasted like rotten flesh, it was sickening and I shoved him away from me, wiping my mouth on the hem of my green dress.

"Take that vile creature away!" I screamed with all my might and Sycamore's facade vanished.

"It will take getting used to Annika, but he is what you want!" She tried to assure me, and even put one on her hands on my shoulder. I threw her arm off of me and stood up, backing away from her and her morbid creation.

"I want nothing to do with it, go away and leave me alone!" I exclaimed, kicking up snow as I tried to distance myself from the two of them.

Sycamore's look could murder as her eyes narrowed. She grabbed Erik-bot by his arm and pulled him away, a menacing look in her evil eyes as she disappeared behind another one of the statues. As soon as she was gone, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground, sobbing. Fresh tears ran down my face again as I tried to forget about what I almost did. I felt sick once again and beyond stupid, how could I have let her lure me in like that? I thought that I had more brain cells than that!

I dug my nails into my scalp, tearing at my hair frustration as I let out all of my anger. I didn't notice when yet another person opened the trap door and came up on the roof.

I thought it was one of the Things, most likely an army sent by Sycamore to punish me, and so naturally, I flinched when I felt something touch me on my shoulder. It pulled away, which was odd and prompted me to turn and look at who or what was actually there.

Do you hear that? Oh, you hear nothing? Well, that is most likely because my heart stopped beating when I turned to find Erik, the real one kneeling down next to me, a look of disbelief and shock in his blue eyes. I felt sick with myself, but I knew that he hadn't seen my encounter with Sycamore, thank God.

"Erik?" I asked weakly and he nodded. I sat up and lifted a hand up to his masked face, wanting to tear it away and finally see what he was hiding from me. He didn't stop me as my fingers pried away at the porcelain, he remained still and stiffer than a board.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to master my thumping heart rate before I finally removed his mask.

To a shallow person, the side Erik's face that he had tried so desperately to keep good and hidden was repulsive, with long claw-like marks raking down the twisted, burnt-black flesh, revealing veins and muscle beneath his skin. People like Christine would faint dead-away if they had to damage their perfect, beautiful minds with such horror, people like the new soprano could only see the world in black and white, with beauty equaling good and any ugliness automatically being considered evil, but to me, the world was a rainbow with many different shades of wickedness and light.

Erik's face was disgusting to look at, it was true, but what I felt when I saw it was different from the loathing and angry disgust that filled my soul when I thought of Erik bot. That creature was wrong and sick, Erik, well... Erik was beautiful, even without his mask.

I didn't scream when I looked at him, although I do remember one bubbling up in my throat. Did I let it out? Of course not, I couldn't do that to him, I could never do that to him, I loved him, yet did he still remain oblivious to such a claim? The answer, unfortunately, was yes, yes he did.

I placed his mask down beside me and put my hands on his shoulders. He looked at me with a neutral expression mixed with shock and bewilderment as I took another deep breath and willed myself to remember all the good in him, and not just what I saw.

I found it to be easier to accept the longer I looked at him, and it took a solid ten minutes to regain my composure enough to speak.

"There" I said quietly. "Now I can't leave you. And I'll never want to."


	22. Chapter 22: Life Sucked

**A/N: Yeah, I was lying when I said it would be a while until the next update. Whoops! Sorry, I hope you don't mind!**

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**_Chapter Twenty-Two: Life Sucked_**

Erik wouldn't look at me after I told him that, it took him another ten minutes to get him to face me again, and when he did, I again had to focus all my self-control on what beauty lay beneath his surface.

His face would take plenty of getting used to, but I was determined. As much as I knew that I loved his inner-beauty, I still had yet to learn just how to accept his outer beauty, but I was trying, and that thought gave me enough comfort to persevere.

"You willingly give up your freedom?" He asked me in a shaky voice and I nodded, swallowing thickly.

"I do. You don't scare me, Erik, and you need a...friend." The last word was torture, as being his friend was not what I wanted, and I'm quite sure he knew that, but he said nothing.

"Why?" He questioned suspiciously, which caught me off-guard a little bit.

"Because, I-I lo-care about you. I care about you a lot, Erik." I felt sick with myself. I had just promised to be his friend and in the same breath, I had lied to him, he wasn't the monster, I was.

"You mean this?" Again, I nodded and told him yes. This seemed like a very difficult thing to cope with for him, and I could understand.

"I'm not a liar, Erik. And I'm done with being afraid of you, I'm done with wanting to escape, I accept you, and I care about you so much." The first bit was, in fact, a huge fib, the rest, quite true.

It was then I noticed just how shaken Erik looked, almost like a scared little boy who didn't quite know what the Hell was going on, and suddenly it dawned on me, I still hadn't given Erik his mask back.

His mask was the source of his power, without it, he saw himself as just some ugly freak on display, his mask was his control, it was his security blanket, he couldn't cope without it.

I was determined to change that.

I didn't want to, as I was trying so hard to get over it, but I gently picked up his mask from beside me and handed it back to him. He took it from me just as carefully and turned away from me. He placed it back on his face and covered his twisted deformity from my view, both pleasing me and disappointing me at the same time.

Erik's deformity was a bit of a mixed bag with me. A part of me instantly loved it as much as I loved him, and wanted him to throw the mask in the fire down in the lair, while another part of me wished that I never had to look at such ugliness again. Deep down, what really scared me is the fact that I didn't know which part was more dominant.

Still, I tried to ignore such fear, and as soon as Erik's mask was back in place, I again put a hand on his cheek, trying to purge the memory of the cold, dead Erik bot. The real Phantom of the Opera in front of me was still cold, with his eyes like long tunnels with a distant speck of light at the end and his pale skin, but he wasn't dead, not remotely.

He was a mad genius, and I was mad about him.

He covered my freezing hand with his black-gloved one and removed it, setting it back in my lap. It was a slap in the face, but I'd expected it.

"I will be back in a little bit, Erik. But I need to think, it is why I came up here." I told him and the Opera Ghost nodded in understanding. He stood up and made to leave, but in a flourish, he roved his thick, dark cloak and tied it around my shoulders, protecting me from the chill of the late winter night. For the briefest of moments, his arms were around me, and I prayed that he would never let me go, but less than three seconds later, Erik had vanished through the trap door, leaving me alone on the roof of the Opera Populaire.

I tugged the cloak tighter around me and pulled some of the fabric closer to me. It was warm, comforting and smelled just like him, which was like expensive French cologne and a small trace of dirt from living in the lair for so long. It was such a nice smell, and it was as beautiful as him.

It fogged my brain a little bit, but did not dull my senses in the least when Sixty emerged out from behind the door on the opposite end of the roof. I smiled lightly at her as she sprinted over and almost knocked me over in one of her bone-crushing, signature hugs. I hugged her back as she turned towards the door and glared at Goblin as he came flying through it.

"See Goblin! I told you she wouldn't do it, our little girl is way smarter than you give her credit for!" Goblin scowled and I just giggled as he came and perched in my shoulder, giving my cheek an affectionate peck.

"I never doubted her!" He defended and Sixty's eyes widened in sheer surprise.

"You bloody liar! You so did!" She exclaimed as Goblin shook his head.

"No, no, I am not a liar, that is your department my dear." I could sense that one of their fights -which could last forever, I might add- was about to begin and so I took it upon myself to break it up before anything got terribly out of hand.

"You guys!" I exclaimed and they both looked to me. "Stop it!" I finished and Sixty sighed.

"We're just worried about you, girl." She said with her violet eyes filled with a completely hopeless expression. I sent a wave of pain through my chest to see and I put an arm around her thin shoulders, pulling her into another tight hug.

"I'm fine, seriously guys, I will be just fine." Sixty seemed to believe me, but Goblin looked uncertain.

"I don't doubt that you have been able to heal yourself in the past, my dear little Annie, but sometimes, you will need some help, this may be one of those times." He said and I had to admit that he had a really good point.

"For some reason, I agree with you, Goblin. Annie, baby, you need someone to talk to, and we're here right now. Why don't you tell us what's wrong?" I sighed and shook my head, it was way to embarrassing to talk about with my two best friends.

"Perhaps it would be best if I were to leave." Goblin suggested and I shook my head. I had made my choice, and Goblin was my friend, I would talk to both of them, one would never be left in the dark.

"No, stay, I'll tell you, but please don't judge me, okay?" I asked and they both nodded immediately.

"You got it, honey." Sixty promised. I sighed again and I sat down on one of the backs of the Pegasus statues, the one that wasn't covered in snow.

I took a deep breath to calm my raging emotions and finally started to speak.

"I'm sick, really, really sick." Was the very first thing I told them on the subject and their eyes widened.

"Oh my God! Where does it hurt, is it pneumonia?! Christ, it is pneumonia isn't it?! Oh my God!" Sixty was freaking out and I ended up having to slap her like they do in the movies to calm her down.

"Thank you, my dear." Goblin said when Sixty's mad, spontaneous loss of sanity had dulled. I nodded and told him your welcome and then continued.

"I'm not sick like that Sixty, so please cool it." I explained calmly. "I'm sick in the brain, I'm really twisted up here" I paused, pointing to my temple, meaning my brain, "More so than I thought." I finished and Goblin decided to speak up.

"What ever do you mean?" He questioned and Sixty asked the same thing with her eyes. I shrugged casually.

"I'm in love." It was the first time I had ever said it out loud, and the first time I had really allowed myself to believe it totally. Deep down, I had really hoped I was lying to myself, but now I knew I wasn't.

"You're in love?" My two friends asked in unison. Goblin seemed to have a slight scoff in his voice, while Sixty seemed to be gushing pure joy from her ears. She squealed like a fan-girling banshee and rushed forward, sitting beside me and grabbing my wrists in a hand-cuff-like grip before yanking me up off of my seat and spinning me around in some strange kind of dance while she giggled.

Goblin, who seemed a tad bit flustered, nervously flew from the wing of the Pegasus to its back where I had been sitting with sixty just seconds ago. He seemed a bit unsure, I could see it in his eyes, and when Sixty finally let me go, he asked his question.

"I don't know, who is this person?" He asked and I couldn't believe he didn't know.

"It's Erik, of course." As soon as I said this, Sixty stopped dead and turned to look at me like I had grown two heads in the span of mere seconds.

"Are you nuts?" She asked me seriously and I nodded.

"Yes, now don't you see?" I asked and she shook her head in disbelief.

"I think that this is a serious mental disorder in some countries, Annika, perhaps you've heard of it? It goes by the name of, I don't know, Stockholm syndrome!" Goblin exclaimed sarcastically and I glared at him.

"God dammit, Goblin!" I exclaimed, walking towards the edge of the roof to get a better view of the lamp-lit horizon of Paris. "I know that I'm seriously fucked up! Please don't remind me." Sixty looked shocked at my language but I didn't care. I focused on how beautiful Paris looked from this distance. I could see the Eiffel Tower glowing like a candle-lit beacon of beauty, shining out to the world, it really was quite lovely.

"Girl, what's gotten in to you?" She asked and I shook my head.

"I-I just don't know, Sixty." I told her honestly. "And I know that it's beyond wrong, but I can't help it, I love him more than anything." I said with a sad shrug, my voice cracking and Sixty made a small noise of sympathy before tugging me into yet another hug.

"It's okay girl, I understand." She pulled away and looked me in the eye. "And you are so not messed up, this is normal, it's fine." She assured me, but Goblin was having absolutely none of it.

"Have you both gone mad?" He asked rhetorically and I gave him a pointed look, silently reminding him that he was not actually real. "Well, I won't stand for this, perhaps I should have left!" He exclaimed and I glared at him.

"Fine" I said. "Then just go if you can't take the truth!" I cried and he ruffled his feathers. He made a clucking sound from his beak and took off into the air.

"I will return, when you both come to your senses!" He shouted on the wind as he flew away out of sight.

The second he was gone, everything went to Hell.

"Oh my God, what have I done?" I shouted at Sixty, who was trying to calm me down.

"Annika, just relax, calm down!" She yelled at me but I ignored her.

"I lost him, oh my God, I lost him!" I shrieked, shaking like crazy. I felt dirty, I felt horrible that I made him leave, it was all my fault. "LET GO OF ME!" I finally snapped at Sixty who was clutching onto my wrists very tightly so that I didn't pitch myself off of the roof in an attempt to fly after him.

"I'll find him, Annika, you're going to be okay, just go back to the lair, I'll make him come back, just chill out, okay?" She asked me and I nodded, my insides feeling like they were being crushed by a car compactor.

She vanished through the door and I made myself walk back towards the trap door and lower myself down to the secret passageway. My body felt heavy as i dragged myself along the dingy hall back to Erik. It felt so strange to know that Goblin wasn't there, and that I couldn't rely on him anymore. It felt odd to know that Sycamore had a plan that would probably kill me, and it felt especially tragic to know that I was pouring all my energy into something any sane person would deem pointless.

Excuse me for dragging my vocabulary down to that of a spoiled child, but my next thought was, in fact quite true;

Life sucked.


	23. Chapter 23: A Red and Black Christmas

**A/N: I'm sorry, it's been so, so long and I can't help it, I just have so many exams! Other than that, I say thank you to CrazyPerson2671 for my 100th review! You are AMAZING!**

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_**Chapter Twenty-Three: A Red and Black Christmas**_

I was silent for the rest of the night when I got back to the lair.

It's not really like it's my fault, although I guess it is because an interesting aspect to my disorder is the times when I virtually feel that I cannot bring myself to speak, not even a single syllable at all! It's nerve-wracking, as one should really expect, but I have absolutely no control over it, and I remember I used to make such a fuss over it when I was younger.

I was not the only one who did not like this little side-effect of Schizophrenia, my teacher in fact, loathed me for it, as she thought that it was just a desperate plea for attention when I would pull that stunt. I scoffed at this, even as a child, which she found to be very rude. She called my Mom and told her about my 'distasteful', as she called it, behavior, and she came rushing to my school.

Out of all the people in the whole, wide world, including myself, my Mom was the only one who seemed to understand why I would get so silent for so very long. She didn't know the science behind it, but she told me that sometimes, I would feel like I had nothing important to say, in which case she rationalized that I would say nothing at all. I believed that, but my teacher was absolutely and completely not convinced. She insisted that it was a warped plea for attention, and she inquired as to my father's relationship with me, and if my parents were negligent towards me in any way shape or form.

I wanted to smack her so hard that her nieces and nephews would feel it -for I was under the completely plausible impression that no one of sound mind would ever marry that awful woman, much less impregnate her- but I did not, I shook my head and glared at her in the most frightening way I could, the end result was effective, for she brought up the issue no further, and merely let me and my family be.

Erik didn't seem to mind my borderline odd silence, in fact, I think he was rather glad of it as I said nothing and went to sit down on this comfortable, cushy yet worn arm chair that I had 'claimed' a week ago. I couldn't bear to find sleep in case Erik's face came to haunt me that night. I loved him, but he was still very frightening.

I didn't like the feeling I had when I thought about Erik's face, it wasn't one of pure fear, as love watered down the potency of fright, but I was afraid, deep, deep down, and I think that was what scared me the absolute most.

I also didn't look at Erik all evening, I couldn't bear the embarrassment I would feel, and I didn't want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than I'm sure he already did, that would finish me.

So instead, I sat quietly and busied myself with looking at the wall. Boring business, I know, but what the Hell else could I do? What the Hell else indeed.

I wondered for a moment -or possibly close to three hours- just how far away Christmas was. It didn't feel at all that distant, and I thought perhaps that the time to give Erik his gift would come much, much sooner than expected, which made me quite happy.

I wanted to give it to him as yet another peace offering, and I was suddenly consumed with a wave of guilt as I realized just how often I found myself saying sorry to my dear Phantom of the Opera. it was yet another strike in the heart to add to the many theoretical stab wounds that already lay there, imbedded in the skin, and it also sent a wave of depression through me as I had yet another epiphany.

No wonder he hates you. I heard myself say. You're a bother, you're not picture-perfect Christine who doesn't get her nose into anybody else's business and she certainly doesn't talk to herself like you do! I growled lowly, so low in fact, that Erik, who was absent mindedly scribbling down music on the thick sheets of lined paper in his own language at his organ a few mere feet away, didn't notice in the least.

His music usually calmed me, although he would never sing, but that day, it filled me with a terribly intense feeling of angst and frustration. I wanted to scream when he played a few bars from 'The Music of the Night', but I didn't, I grit my teeth in silence and waited for my ability to talk to come back, hopefully with Goblin following.

When my voice returned, the first thing i asked was about Christmas.

"Erik?" I asked hesitantly and he turned immediately this time to look at me. I almost blushed at his almost angry gaze in embarrassment, but I suppressed it and tried not to look too small. "Do... do you know when Christmas is?" I asked and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I'm afraid I do not, Annika." He tells me and a wave of butterflies lift through me as he obviously still cares enough to call me by y first name.

"Well, could we e make up a date and go from there?" I asked hopefully. "I'm kind of tired of waiting for so long, and you and me could use a little joy." I say and again he pauses to think.

"I have never celebrated Christmas, perhaps it is time that I did." I feel a little bit bad that he never had Christmas before, and yet almost a little bit proud that it would be me to show him just how much fun he could have.

"Well, we don't have a turkey." I began, trying to cheer up. "And we don't have a Christmas tree, usually, I would say that with out a tree or turkey we have no Christmas, but, when there's a we, there's a way!" I said brightly and a ghost of a smile appeared on Erik's lips, giving me the nerve to keep going.

"What do you suggest then?" He asked and I shrugged.

"I don't know, but we could get out some of the bakery food and we could chill out." I said and Erik looked at bit confused as to what 'chill out' meant, but he seemed to think it was a good idea.

"Very well then, but I put you in charge of this Christmas then whilst I keep on working, feel free to call on me when the set up is finished." I shook my head, there was no way he would get out of this.

"Half the fun of Christmas is setting your shit up, and you will help me." I grabbed him by the arm and led him down the steps away from his organ towards the table. I shoved a table cloth that was no doubt around a zillion years old into his hands and pointed to the piece of furniture's shiny, round surface. "Please?" I asked and he nodded, making me squeal and run to the food box.

Plates, knives, forks and napkins were loaded in my arms when I returned to the front of the lair, smiling widely when I saw the table cloth that was bunched up in a messy ball from before was now spread out evenly over the table.

Erik noticed how much I was carrying and immediately turned to help me, taking most of the load from my arms and setting it down on the dinner table. I nodded to him in thanks and set two places at the table, making sure the cutlery was straight and that every little thing looked its best.

Mom would pull out all the stops when it came to Christmas, and I do mean all the stops; I would find her on Christmas Eve morning, at around six in the a.m., chopping stale bread for stuffing and prepping the turkey. She always made way too much food and Grandad and I would take bets on how many different kinds of pie she would make, he knew his daughter better than I did, and he always found a way to win, although I would tell him he cheated.

I shook myself back to reality as I picked up the food from the bakery that remained. One of Erik's demands was that Mme. Giry would bring him enough food from the local bakery to satisfy him for a month, to avoid detection that I was here, Erik orderd less, and then gave it all to me. I found this unfair, but I didn't argue about it, he hardly ever ate anyway.

I set what was left on the large serving dished that were already laid out and arranged it so that it looked pretty. Indeed there was quite a bit more food than I'm sure myself and Erik could eat, but I mentally shrugged and just put it all out, just in case we needed it.

Erik disappeared for a little bit, no more than a few minutes, before returning with two fine crystal wine glasses and a bottle of champagne. He explained that he enjoyed an tasteful alcoholic indulgence, but never drank himself into a stupor, he felt that he had too much class and I agreed. Champagne did seem to fit him so well, as Erik did have very expensive taste.

His suits, I found, were all imported Italian silk, his cologne, as I have previously mentioned in a way that makes me blush, is of the highest quality, and the art that drenched the walls of his lair was both appropriate and quite elegant. If not for his face and the fact that he lived beneath the Opera house instead of attending the opera every single night, I would have mistaken Erik for a nobleman who practiced his airs and graces often.

I sighed and wondered what life could've been like if I was rich and lead a different life, perhaps that was it, perhaps Erik didn't love me because of how common I was.

I couldn't blame him, why would a man want an overly willing rock when he had a slightly reluctant diamond just a few miles above his head? Maybe I'm just hopeless.

Again I shook myself back to reality and tried to put on a smile that said I didn't feel like my innards were ripped out. Erik poured us each a glass and then walked around the table and pulled out my chair like the gentleman he was. I blushed and sat down, focusing on the intricate lace pattern in the table cloth and not meeting his gaze, feeling like a stupid girl talking to her crush the whole damn time.

Erik sat opposite to me and raised his delicate glass in a toast. I'd never toasted anything before, and so I merely settled with trying to copy his movements. I picked up my glass as well, trying not to break it, and I held it aloft.

Erik was silent and it occurred to me that he wanted me to make the toast. Again I blushed scarlet at my major blunder and tried not to stutter.

"To Erik" I began "A talented musician, an amazing architect, and also, a very good friend." I said. If my toast made Erik uncomfortable, he did not show it, and for that, I'm glad, I always hated embarrassing him.

He clinked my glass lightly with his before taking a sip of the champagne and nodding before looking to the bottle.

"An excellent year." He commented on our alcoholic beverage, and even though I didn't even have an inkling as to what made champagne taste bloody amazing, it was still very good.

It was bubbly, like soda-pop, which appeased my inner five-year-old, but it had a bitter bite to it. Champagne was pleasant, I decided I liked it right then and there. I finished my glass quickly and Erik refilled it, just as swiftly, not spilling a drop on the table cloth before sighing and giving in.

I had already taken enough food to feed a small family for myself, but the Opera Ghost had not touched anything, eventually, he broke down and allowed himself to eat; a fact that made me smile.

In the same thought, not a second later, it occurred to me that to any outsider that happened to swim across the lake and look at me, having dinner with the Phantom of the Opera, would assume we were on a date. I don't know why, but that sent a snakebite to my heart, filling it up with venom as I almost excused myself right then and there.

I could dream all I wanted; I was not on a date with Erik.

We finished eating quickly and cleaned up jut as fast, as I wanted to show Erik my gift right away. I hoped he liked it, and Shock assured me that he would, I just didn't know if I could trust her.

"Okay, the best part of Christmas besides the food is opening presents!" I exclaimed as I lightly pushed Erik down in a chair and then turned and ran to where I kept his gift well hidden.

I sauntered back to the Phantom with my hands held behind my back. I opened my mouth to tell him to close him eyes, but thought better of him. I didn't think Erik trusted me, and for all I knew, he could think I would try to kill him.

"Here." I said, handing him the neatly wrapped parcel. He nodded and carefully removed the outer paper. He nodded once more when he pulled out the little crystal chandelier, almost as if he approved of it. This sent a million tiny lights dancing around in my stomach, he actually liked it!

Erik motioned for me to help him stand and I did, making sure he didn't fall as he walked over to him miniature Opera house and hung up my gift to that it hung over where the audience would be. I smiled as a faint grin washed over his lips, and he turned to me.

"Perhaps" he began "Christmas is something I have quite missed out on." He said and I smiled.

"It's never too late." I reminded him and he carefully raised one of his icy hands to gently cover my hand, which was entwined with his arm, keeping him upright.

"I should hope not."


	24. Chapter 24: A Coward

**__A/N: Yay! New chapter update! Okay, so this chapter is just a little bit of filler with some more back story that never actually happened. And yes, I will be making up all of Erik's back story, it just seems right. If you don't like it, PM me if you want and please tell me why, I don't want to sound like an idiot!**

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**_Chapter Twenty-Four: A Coward_**

Goblin didn't come back over the next two months, but Sixty did.

She told me that she couldn't find hide nor hair of him anywhere; wherever anywhere was. I didn't blame her, Goblin never was one to let things that didn't work with him slide, but he'd never been so angry with me, he'd never left me, and in turn, I built some very potent rage towards him as well.

I used this rage as fuel for my body, just to keep me running.

Why you ask? Well I didn't expect you to know as you most likely do not have people or animals or cyborgs or rats scurrying about in your brain now do you? No. Of course you don't. Excuse my temper, recording this isn't easy.

Anyway, you ask why and the answer is simple; my 'friends', I'd found, were nothing short of apart of me, they were like my organs, my body parts, take them away and all you have is the will to live.

The second Goblin left it was like a surgeon cut into my body and took a vital organ.

I had no more reason to be rational anymore because a piece of me was gone, and back then, for all I knew, it wasn't coming back. That's what drove me mental, it was like living on the last breath of life! All I had to keep me going was the anger and the pain that I'd accumulated and the sick hope that I would see Goblin again. And when I did, I would clip his wings and break his neck.

Of course, this anger dulled into complete and utter misery that I learned to live with and I found myself with a permanent stomach ache.

One day, a month into his little holiday, Erik noticed.

"Is something troubling you?" He asked one day, out of the blue. We were sitting at the newly-christened dinner table, eating lunch, but I found myself not hungry. Don't get me wrong, I was actually starving, but the pain in my stomach twisted around at the thought of food and made it all the more unbearable.

"N-nothing." I said quietly, pushing my plate away from me. As delicious as the bakery food smelled and looked, I would feel much, much sicker if I ate anything. Surprisingly, Erik didn't seem to buy it.

"You haven't touched your food, not for a few days at least, I've noticed." I tensed as he put his fork down and put his elbows on the table, folding his hands. "Let's try again, what is troubling you?" I sighed, putting the fork that I'd been using to play with my food down as well.

"Goblin's gone." I said quietly, but ti seemed as though Erik didn't hear me at all.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"Goblin is gone." I replied and he looked confused.

"Yes, I heard you say that the first time, but I can't make heads or tails of that, care to be more specific?" He asked and I exhaled heavily again.

"You know there is something wrong with me, I know you've seen me talking to myself." I began and he nodded.

"Yes, I have" He started. "Except you are not talking to yourself, are you Annika?" I shook my head.

"You;re right, I'm not." Erik looked pleased that he'd gotten it right.

"Then who are you talking to?" I shrugged.

"I have two 'friends' that live in my brain, Erik." I started. "Their names are Sixty and Goblin. Sixty is in the form of a twenty-year-old woman, Goblin is a large barn owl." I said calmly. I stole a glance at Erik and found him to be just as collected as I was.

"And?" He asked, prompting me to continue.

"Well, Goblin sort of... took off." I said and he seemed curious.

"Why?" I shrugged again.

"We had a bit of a spat." I said and he nodded.

"Would you like to tell me what it was about?" I shook my head and he nodded. "That's quite alright, Annika." He told me in a gentle voice. "I won't push you to tell me something you're uncomfortable with." I gave him a sad smile in thanks.

"That's why I'm not eating. I feel awful, like I'm going to die every second." It was Erik's turn to sigh after I said that.

"I understand what you mean." He said and then it was me to be curious.

"Care to share?" I asked hopefully, but he shook his head.

"Not unless you tell me about your little row with your barn owl." I understood his point, Erik never was one to ask about personal information if he didn't benefit from it.

"Fine, it was about you." I said finally and it seemed so odd because Erik almost looked surprised. "Well, he didn't really approve with me being in lo- being your friend." I stopped myself before Erik could hear. "He didn't like or want me to be your friend." Erik nodded.

"I can understand why." He said simply and I fought the urge to laugh, I just bet he knew what it was like to have a barn owl that lived in his mine tell him not to befriend someone.

"So what about you?" I asked, letting a smile slip past my radar and work it's way onto my lips. "What secret have you got to share with me?" Erik sighed and weaved his fingers together -a nervous habit I noticed he'd had about three weeks ago- and thought for a moment.

"I know what it's like to miss something so much that you think you might die." He said softly and my smile fell instantly like he had said a magic word.

"Tell me." I said and he nodded.

"Yes, I think I should get it off of my chest." He replied, but straightened up. "I know about Mme. Giry." My heart stopped. "Please, don't ask me how, but I know that she told you of my life story, or at least what I have told her." I nodded, giving him the cue to proceed. "Well, I'm sure you know this but I have not told her everything, in fact I've kept this from everyone and the only reason I'm telling you is because..." He trailed off.

"Because why?" I asked and he shook himself back to reality.

"Because you are the closest thing I have ever had to a living friend." For a moment, I felt the pain in my stomach recede and found butterflies swarming there instead. I reached across the table and took one of his larger, colder hands in both of mine.

"I'm not the closest thing, Erik. I am your friend, and I always will be." I gave him a kind smile that he did not return. Instead he pulled away from my and the hurt bled back into my torso like he had cut me.

"Yes, well, anyway, I am quite sure you know from Mme. Giry that I spent quite some time in Persia." I nodded. "Well, I never told her this, but I did not spend those long years alone." I was stunned.

"Who did you send them with then?" I asked and he paused for a moment before going on.

"I had a friend once, a long time ago, a wonderful companion named Delkasha. She was truly extraordinary in my eyes, but nothing special to everyone else however, they thought that she was just a servant, but she was kind to me." I felt a pang of jealously in my heart and my eyes narrowed.

"Did you love her?" I asked and he shook his head, the jealousy subsided.

"No, no I did not. She had a husband, a horrible man who would beat her, one day, I saw her treating cut marks on her hands where she had scraped them on the ground, quite similar to yours when you first came here. I helped her dress them and she asked me my name. We became good friends, her and I , quite good in fact, she would spend so much time with me that people began to talk, there were whispers of indecency." I was stunned, Erik would never do that!

"Was it because she was married? Is that why people cared?" I asked and he shook his head.

"No, people cared because my little Kasha was twelve." I gasped.

"A child bride?" I asked and Erik nodded.

"Yes, but I swear I did not touch her, I could never do that, Kasha was like my daughter!" I nodded.

"I believe you." I repelled and Erik calmed down considerably. "What happened to her then?" I asked and Erik winced a bit.

"Ayesha, the false Empress of Persia at that time, grew curious of what lay beneath my mask, this, I am quite sure you already are well aware of." I nodded. "Well, she unmasked me, but she did not scream." I was mildly surprised.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because she had done far worse to men who displeased her." I shuddered and Erik seemed to notice.

"Am I frightening you? Perhaps this is too gruesome a subject for you?" I scanned his voice, trying to detect any sarcasm, any malice, but no, there was none of it, Erik was genuinely concerned for my well-being.

"No, no tell me, I want to know." I insisted.

"Ayesha unmasked me before everyone in the palace courtyard. I heard the screams of hundred of men and women that day, but I did not hear Kasha's. She is the reason I am standing here today." I gave him a look telling him to continue.

"What did she do?" I asked and I noticed tears brimming in Erik's eyes.

"She saved me. She ran up to where the three guards held me at gunpoint and slit one of the man's throats, giving me enough time to snap the neck the second one. The third man panicked, and he picked the closest target to open fire on. Kasha was dead before I could blink." I didn't notice it, but the tears that had welled up in my eyes began to fall, and not too soon afterwards, Erik's voice became croaky.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"I fled the courtyard, and I came back to France." He said simply. I knew he was trying to make it seem like he was fine but I could tell that he wasn't in the least.

"Oh Erik." I whispered, standing up and walking around the table. I sat down next to him where he was seated on the couch that we had pulled up to use as a chair, and before I could stop myself, I lay my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his torso. "Poor unhappy Erik." I whispered, quoting the book as the Opera Ghost went rigid as a board.

I thought for a moment if I had done something horribly wrong perhaps, but just for a moment, as less than thirty seconds later, I had known that I had done something wrong, but what was comforting and almost encouraging was that Erik was doing absolutely nothing to correct the situation that I had just thrown myself and him into. I let silent tears fall down my face as I thought of a little girl being shot, all to protect Erik, and I couldn't help it, I moved even closer towards him.

_You're his only living friend now, Annika._ I whispered to myself in my mind and that sent another round of tears pouring out of my eyes.

I kept myself like that for ten minutes before Erik finally responded. He raised his arm, making me think that he was going to push me away, but he did no such thing. Instead, he put his cool yet comforting arm around my shoulder, pulling me in just a little closer to him.

"I love you." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, but Erik didn't move, he didn;t even turn his head. Three seconds later, he turned to me.

"My apologies, I must have tuned out for a moment, did you say something?" My heart plummeted sixteen floors to the cement sidewalk.

"I-I" I couldn't bring myself to say it. Not again, it would destroy me. "I-I didn't say anything, Erik." I told him and he nodded.

"If you're sure." He replied and I nodded.

I wanted to tell him how I felt about him, I wanted to lean up right now and kiss him properly, the way I should have that night, but I didn't, I just moved even closer to him and listened to him breathe for three hours. Do you know why I did that?

Because I'm nothing more that a coward.


	25. Chapter 25: No Air

**A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the long hiatus, but my computer is havign trouble with the power jack. I think it's happening because the good folks at Future Shop made the area around it very loose and it could've slipped out. Anyway, my laptop is dead right now and I'm using my sister's right now. I hopw it's fixed soon, but it coudl take a while. **

**Anyway, this chapter is fluffy, as I'm biding my time until the Masquerade chapter, but it is pivotal, as you all finally get your wish! I'll say no more, but do read on!**

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_**Chapter Twenty-Five: No Air**_

"Erik, today is a very special day." I said out of the blue. It was only three more weeks until the Bal de Masque, and Erik and I had been growing closer.

I no longer had to tiptoe around him,in case I set him off, as I'd come to know his triggers, which were far more complex than I'd ever imagine. Knowing these things about him also helped me to grow more used to the Opera Ghost; such as if you so much as mentioned Raoul he'd fly into a passion and destroy the whole lair, which I'd later clean up. This was an extreme reaction that was good to know, but Erik, I'd found, could be quite normal, given that the circumstances were right.

I'd found that Erik quite enjoyed looking at the stars, as he so rarely got to see them, at times like this, he would wake me from my sleep on my chair, and take my hand. He'd lead me up the stairs of some foreign passageway, and lift a trap door to the roof, where we would spend hours just looking at the beautiful, twinkling diamonds.

Erik never did take his mask off in front of me after I'd forcibly removed it, and it's seems a thought I've gotten carried away because it just so happens that what I'm about to document does in fact, have something to do with that.

"And why is it special, my dear?" He asked, gazing over his shoulder to me. He was sitting at his magnificent organ, sheet music piled around him and ink stains on his fingers. For the last twenty minutes, I realized that I'd been staring at him, and found myself in need of a distraction.

"Today is special because today is..." I paused for dramatic effect. "No mask friday!" I exclaimed and Erik sighed.

"Annika, today is Thursday, and no, I won't do that to you again." I rolled my eyes and jumped off the sofa, walking towards him.

"Erik. Please give me a chance." I said in a pleading voice and he shook his head.

"Give you a chance to what? Change your mind and run screaming? No, Annika, I won't do it." It felt like a stab wound to the heart.

"I am supposed to be your friend!" I exclaimed and Erik slammed his fingers down on the keys and whipped around to face me.

"I do not have friends." That was a low blow. Too low for me, at that point anyway. I set my mouth in a firm line and tried to keep myself from crying.

"If that's true, then what am I?" I asked and he gazed down at his lap.

"It is true. I don't have friends," I couldn't help but wince; who knew words could hurt so much? "But I do have a friend, and it is you." I looked back to him and allowed a small smile to escape onto my lips. I never was one to play hard to get.

"Please?" I asked one more time and he nodded. I knelt down beside him and cupped the mask side of his cheek, getting a good grip so that I wouldn't break the porcelain. Carefully, I worked my fingernails underneath the piece of glass and gently pried it away, setting it down on the organ.

He was difficult to look at, but that didn't stop me from looking as I promised myself I would get used to him. He was still beautiful to me though, despite his ugliness, and while it was hard to ignore, I focused on all that grace and wonder hidden beneath a layer of twisted, rotten-looking flesh.

Gently, very gently, and not to mention slowly, I raised my hand and placed it on his scarred cheek. I couldn't help but notice him wince a little bit, and I so pulled away instantly.

"Oh, did I hurt you?" I asked in a panicked, voice. I squeaked when I saw a few tears slide down his unmarked cheek, thinking for sure that I'd put him through some pain, but instead on screaming in agony, Erik gave a throaty, humorless laugh as an answer to my question.

"No, and I don't believe you ever could. You are so kind, Annika, to hold in your scream." I almost gasped at his words.

"I'm not holding in anything." I told him truthfully, as I didn't feel dizzy, sick or scared in the least for that matter.

"Oh Annika." He whispered. Erik then reached down to where my hand was, and he lifted it back to his face. He kept his eyes on me, as if tryign to see the amount of disgust that he could find there, any indication that I was lying, but he wouldn't find any, I knew that, because there was none to be found.

"You're beautiful." I said after a little while, which had him looking at me like I was madder than any hatter.

"No."He spoke softly and I shook my head, running my thumb slowly over a particularly mangled piece of flesh near his mouth.

"Yes, you are." I replied and he shook his head.

"No, I am deformed, and I am ugly." He said and I couldn't help it, I smirked.

"Who's to say what's ugly?!"" I half exclaimed, half asked. "If you were told that I was ugly, would you still want to be around me?" I asked and his eyes widened.

"But you're not ugly, Annika, you are indeed quite lovely." I blushed furiously, and ducked my head for a moment before regaining my composure.

"But if society labeled me as hideous, yet you knew what I was like on the inside, would you stay?" I asked with a bit more force.

"Of course I would." Erik replied, making my heart flutter.

"Why?" It was a simple enough question, and it took Erik less than half a second to give me an answer to it.

"Because you are good. You are kind and you are lovely, on the inside and out."He replied, and by then, I was tearing up as well.

"You see?" I asked. "That's what I mean. I know your heart Erik, and even if the people upstairs said you were the ugliest thing on earth, your heart would not change. That's why I stay, because I can see the good in you, and I never want to be without it." I gave him a sad little smile and bit my lip as he just shook his head.

He was so warped, so twisted into thinking he was hideous, and a little part of me wondered if it was even worth my time to try and change that. Needless to say, that little part was trampled immediately by the other part of me. This part was larger, with much more dominance over my psyche, and it was called my reasonable judgement.

Erik would never be a waste of time to me. No matter how much he made me cry or hurt, I knew that he would always be worth it, no matter what.

_Let's try this again, shall we? _Shock asked rhetorically in brain and before I could stop myself from doing it, she gave my mind a strong push that had me physically closing the distance between me and Erik.

I tried to stop, I really did, as I had swum these murky waters before, as you may know, with nothing less than heart-exploding results. Despite my efforts, nothing could stop Shock as she hurdled me towards the man I loved. I was ready for it this time, everything seemed to go in slow motion, which gave me enough time to prepare. I closed my eyes and allowed my lips to collide with his.

This wouldn't be a repeat of last time, I promised myself this as I let go and allowed the walls I'd built with fear of being rejected again to crumble to the ground. There was no pain, no fear, and no doubt as I kissed him. I wasn't scared of being rebuffed anymore, I wasn't afraid of anything and if Erik didn't love me, so be it. Nothing mattered anymore as I kissed him slowly, letting my lips explore his.

Just like his face, half of Erik's mouth was beautiful and perfect, and they almost tasted like... music. I didn't know, everything was swimming and I couldn't see if I opened my eyes, my vision was blocked by exploding colors. The other half was rough and slightly mangled, but the sweetness that occupied the rest of his mouth was only intensified, even if it did feel like I was kissing leather a little bit. I was too busy thinking about how amazing it felt to kiss him with confidence, that I didn't feel his lips moving against mine until a little bit later.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks; he was kissing me back.

I felt like I was going into cardiac arrest, he was kissing me back and he didn't seem like he would stop! I felt my tears of happiness slide down my face and mingle with his and while I felt like my arms should be laced around his neck or something to complete the cheesy picture I'm sure I just painted you, they were fixed at my sides like my body was stone.

Eventually, my lungs began to hurt from my lack of air, and I had to pull away. I sat back on my heels and opened my eyes slowly to see Erik staring at me, panting as heavily as I was. I forced myself to breathe slowly as I got oxygen back to my severely damaged brain and tried to think clearly.

In the end, that was pointless.

When my normal breathing patterns returned, and I no longer felt my heart hammering, I just sat there and stared at Erik for what felt like a long time, and he did the same. Five minutes later, he lunged at me. I winced, expecting him to attack, but never have I been so wrong. He grabbed me around the waist and before I could react, he pulled me closer to him and kissed me hard on the mouth again.

This time, I found I couldn't keep my hands to myself, instead my arms wound around him neck in a strangling grasp that threatened to cut off his minimal air supply. He kissed me forcefully, almost angrily, like he was mad about something, but I didn't care, it felt as though I would never care about anything again, because everything was perfect.

Erik was an utter gentleman, keeping his hands just at my mid-back, venturing no lower or higher. He was respectful, and that only heightened my happiness as I kissed him back with as much confidence and passion as before, if not more so.

It was he who broke away for air this time, although he still kept his arms around me. Erik looked angry, and surprised, and confused and so many other emotions were written on his face to even begin to read, but I saw no regret there, no wishing that he didn't just do that, and it gave me the hope I needed to dare that he had feelings for me too.

Some of the emotions were stronger than others, like bewilderment and shock, but I prayed that would pass, I selfishly prayed that I'd see love in his eyes, but his gorgeous, icy blue orbs were too clouded with tears. It broke my heart to see him cry, but it didn't seem like he was upset or sad, perhaps they were tears of joy, as mine were at that time. That thought gave me enough courage to do what I did next.

I leaned down and in one swift motion, I pressed a light kiss to the corner of the mangled side of Erik's mouth and then leaned in, right beside his ear.

"I love you."


	26. Chapter 26: Where Do We Go From Here?

**A/N: I hated writing this chapter, I really did. My forte is fluff and this... well this is definitely not fluff in the least. Anyway, it had to be done. Also, I got my laptop back, which is great! Turns out the good people of my local Future Shop chipped a piece of my motherboard and ended up charging me three-hundred bucks for it! Screw you if you're reading this, Future Shop computer-repair-dwellers! **

**Oh, and I forgot to mention that, despite some continuity errors that I face, this story is set in 2002. Please ignore any and all references I have ever made to shows/movies/popular culture during this story, I deeply apologize for. I can't tell you why, but it has something to do with the sequel, as this story may only have six or seven chapters left to it, but I give you the big speech of thanks at the very, very end.  
**

**Don't forget to drop a line if you have the time and please enjoy!**

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_**Chapter Twenty-Six: Where Do We Go From Here?** _

Have you ever felt something die?

I don't mean watched someone die, or heard about someone who died, I mean literally felt the life drain out of them? I have.

I was seven when it happened the first time, or maybe eight, I can't remember, and I really just don't care. Anyway, it happened in my room at the hospital, and even though I was young, I still remember, it.

We were given a plant, all the patients I mean, I guess the staff were trying to compensate for actual friends as none of the rest of the loonies in that bin ever got to spend any time together, and so, they gave us flora. I remember mine was purple, a beautiful, deep shade of violet with a yellow center. It was just a baby plant, with it's tiny leaves and easily breakable stem, and it was the cutest thing I'd even seen. I named her Gully.

Gully was the prettiest flower in the world, I thought, and I took great care of her; watering her when she needed it, and placing her near my window so that she could get what little sunshine we had. But still, Gully was a flower, and even though she technically didn't have feelings, I could still tell that she wanted to be outside with all the other plants. I guess she thought so too. She lasted a week before I woke up one morning to find her dead and shriveled up. The nurses said there just wasn't enough sunlight, but I knew better than that, Gully died because she was lonely, and for a long time, I thought I would be the same.

Erik was the same way when I buried my face into his neck after finally telling him what I'd been holding in so long. My secret was burning a hole in my chest and instantly, I felt relief flood though my system. I curled up on his lap and sobbed as he turned to stone around me. And stone he was, for he was as comforting as a statue. This made me cry harder as Erik's hands found my shoulders and pushed me away from him enough so that I was looking directly at him.

He looked at me for a long time, his eyes scanning my face, looking for something, I didn't know what. I didn't care what either. I wanted him to say something, anything, even if it wasn't what i wanted to hear.

"Erik?" I croaked but got no reply. My heart froze in my chest as he lifted reached his hand into his jacket pocket and removed his handkerchief. Gently as I'm sure he was trying to be, he wiped my tears away, letting his cold hands brush over my warm, tear-streaked cheeks. I closed my eyes and let a few more tears spill out before I felt I migraine coming on. I winced and tried to shake it away and focus on nothing but the man I loved, the Opera Ghost.

"Why do you do this to me?" He asked in an utterly soft voice. This triggered a few more tears leaking out onto my already wet face, but he merely wiped them away and sighed. I had no answer to his question, I couldn't feel anything. I was stupid to think he may have feelings for me as well, I'm not pretty enough or gifted enough or anything. I'm nothing.

"I don't, I mean I-I didn't..." I stammered and then shook my head. It was utterly impossible.

"You didn't mean to kiss me?" This question makes me slightly angry as I wriggle out of Erik's strong grip and put my arms at my sides.

"Of course I meant to!" I exclaimed in such a deafening tone, one that bounced back off the walls and rung again in my ears. My gaze turned stony as new shock blossomed on The Phantom's face. "Did you mean to kiss me?" I asked in a steel-hard voice, one that hopefully made him a little bit uncomfortable.

"It was not right of me, inappropriate, I should say-" I cut him off with a glare.

"I don't know about you, but you were the one making physical contact! I think _you _wanted to kiss _me_!" I said in a loud voice accompanied with the look of death. I thought that maybe Erik would give in right now and possibly show that he loved me too, but he didn't.

"And then to just... good Lord, Annika, you have no idea..." He trailed off after rambling for a few minutes as if he hadn't heard me. I was having none of this, instead I gripped his arms and looked him dead in the eye.

"Then help me understand." I intended to command, but I was so uncertain that it sort of came out like a strange question.

"Annika, I have longed to hear those words from a woman for quite a long time," He said and for the briefest of moments, I was happy. I knew what true happiness was for the three seconds he paused, trying to find the right words to go on. "But not from you." It hit me like a wall.

I almost felt like I had died, right there in front of Erik, and rigor mortise was setting in. I felt paralyzed instantly, and it spread through my system to my brain, which stopped functioning, and then to my heart, which stopped beating a long time ago.

I backed away from him, my eyes wide and leaking salty tears.

"W-what?" I ask, my voice cracking Erik shakes his head.

"You are too young," He begins and I'm too stunned to speak. There's a crushing feeling in my chest as I stagger backwards, trying to get away from him as he rises from his organ bench to step towards me. He stops, noticing my distress and holds his hands up as if to tell me he won't hurt me, physically anyway. "Far too young to know what love truly is, Annika." The pain and the sadness leaves me instantly as I stop crying and take a defensive stance, wiping my tears away and suppressing the urge to growl.

"Shut up." I whisper and shock is evident on his face. "That's right, I told you to shut up and maybe listen for once!" I said in a louder, much more confident voice. "I am not too young to know what love is. You just can't feel it! You have no idea what I'm going through right now, what you've put me through!" I was shouting by the time I was done speaking, my voice having rose in pitch and volume as I struggled to get the words out without tripping over them in my haste to express the feelings that were building up.

"You have no right to speak to me like that!" Erik shouts right back at me and suddenly, he's right in front of me; his mask still on the floor next to his organ bench and his wig right next to it. I notice that his deformity spreads like a disease up the left side of his scalp, forcing his natural, blonde hair to be thin and wispy.

I can't see his beauty anymore. All I see is red.

"I have every right! _You_ are one who did this, _you_ are the one who kissed me back, _you _are the one who gave me hope!" My voice is choppy as I can barely believe that it's coming from me in the first place.

"You are the one at fault, girl! I shall not be blamed for this!" The crack of my hand the undamaged part of Erik's face reverberated through the cave. He stared at me in shock while I tried to ignore the stinging feeling in my hand. Hitting him didn't make me feel better, in fact, it made me feel much, much worse.

"I'm sorry." I began but he only gave me a glare. "I'm sorry I ever thought that a corpse could love me back!" I shrieked and turned on my heel.

I said nothing as I walked over towards the water of the lake. I was wearing my golden dress, which was heavier than anything and as soon as I stepped into the water off the shore, it began to pull me down. I resisted all urge of fight against it as I sunk below the slightly dirty water. I closed my eyes and let the water go over my head.

Not two seconds later, I felt arms around my waist, pulling me back up to the surface, forcing me to take in the oxygen that was waiting. I didn't really need it, as I hadn't been under long enough for them to even start to hurt. I fought against Erik's grip and pulled away from him, stalking back up onto the shore and sitting down, rubbing my eyes that had begun to burn from all my tears.

"You want to die?" Erik asked in a soft voice. I noticed that he was panting harder than I was and despite my efforts, my heart still skipped a beat that he'd run so fast to jump in and save my life... again.

"Yes," I whispered back. "And yet, no." I pulled the sopping wet rag that had kept my hair up in a loose ponytail and flung it to the far side of the lair. "I only did that to punish you. I'm sorry." Erik sighed and sat down beside me. "And I'm sorry I hit you." It was my turn to sigh as I gently lifted a hand to touch his pale cheek that now had a light pink hand print on it. "And I'm sorry I called you a corpse. The fact is, you're a lot livelier than any of the half-dead hicks that wander around upstairs." I confessed.

"I accept your apology, Annika," Erik said after a brief pause. "And I offer mine in turn, for I am truly sorry for what I said." I nodded, holding out my hand for him to shake, which he cautiously did.

We sat in silence for a few moments as I let the pain I'd built up over the thought that Erik might hate me fade away into smoke. The heart-crushing anguish was still there, and it was still potent, but i kept the tears from my eyes as Erik stared out over the still, glassy waters of his personal lake that I had almost ended my entire existence in.

"So," I said after around two hours of just sitting there, him moving no closer to me and me wanting to shift closer to him. "Where do we go from here?"


	27. Chapter 27: One Step at a Time

**A/N: Meh, I'm back in my element; fluff. I regret nothing in this chapter, and I hope you like it because after this; it's Masquerade time! Ha ha! I can't imagine this story having more than four more chapters after this, and then a sequel, which I already have planned out. I'm so excited for the sequel actually, and for unraveling Sycamore's plan finally! **

**To NahlaKing: Hopefully this will help you feel better!**

**To Phan3145: Don't worry, you're not that crazy, I thought it was kind of cutesy too :) **

**To judybear236: Yep, it's soul-searching time.**

**I'd just like for you guys to know as I haven't mentioned this before but judybear236 has really helped me with tracking down all my errors in each chapter for me to fix in the near future. I really appreciate them for their help but I was a bit of a bitch to them at first, so this chapter is dedicated to them in hopes that there won't be too many mistakes.**

**But for now, enjoy this shameless fluff and leave me a review! I've noticed that you guys don't really like it when I write things in a darker way, perhaps because I'm rubbish at it?**

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_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: One Step at a Time**_

"When did you realize this, how long have you kept the secret?" Erik asked after a moment of silence and I decided to let go of my annoyance that he didn't answer my question. I shrugged.

"I honestly don't know." It was true. I'm sure that in any cheesy love story, the heroine can remember the exact moment when she fell in love with the handsome hero, but for the life of me, I couldn't. It was odd. My mind was murky when I focused it on that topic, and I tried to retrace my steps. Hatred had been the majority of what I felt for him for some time, but some where along the line, it changed and I don't know precisely when his gaze on me made my heart flutter.

"Ah." Was all he said before going silent once again. I shifted nervously, wringing out my wet hair gently and sighing before moving just a centimeter closer and folding my freezing hands in my lap. It was extremely cold down here, even with January approaching, it was chilly as the Arctic and the both of us were sopping.

"Did you ever feel anything for me?" I asked carefully and Erik ran a hand over his scalp, exhaling softly before nodding.

"You are the strangest person I've ever met, and I don't deny that wanted to kiss you throughout the duration of our friendship." My mouth fell open in shock.

"Really?" I asked in a strangled whisper and he nodded.

"Yes." He replied and I felt a hot flush come to my cheeks.

"Why?" It was an honest question, but Erik took his time to answer it. Again, I moved a little closer, shivering slightly from the cold. "Hey," I began, covering my cold hand with his, marginally warmer one. For once, my skin was ice and his felt hot in comparison, I think this must have shocked him, for he immediately closed his hand around mine and held it, trying to warm me up. "Let's be honest with each other, okay? No more secrets." He nodded and took a deep breath.

"All of my life, I have hidden in the darkness, never allowing myself to step into the sun." He began with a shaky voice. "But, it isn't as sad of a tale as you would imagine, for I always felt that I belonged in the shadows." I nodded, not sure what he was getting at. "And yet, you have been able to do what no one else has, you took me by the hand and led me out into the light, and made me feel as though I was always meant to be there, and when I am with you, I feel almost human." Tears are pricking at the corner of my eyes again as he continues. "Annika, you have given me life, but I am afraid." He says and I reach my other hand up to touch his shoulder.

"Why?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Because with life, comes death. The end of all things for nothing can last forever. I am afraid to let it happen, I am afraid to part this world and face my judgement at the gates of Hell, for truly it is where I shall end up." I give him a sad smile and it is my turn to shake my head.

"No Erik, you will not go to Hell, but all things must end, that is why we live, to be ready for what comes after it." He lifts my hand that is still clenched in his grasp to his lips and presses a kiss to it, making me blush.

"Then perhaps, we may start anew?" Erik asked me and I nodded happily.

"I'd like that so much, Erik." I replied and a beaming grin found its way onto my face. His lips curled up into a gentle smile as he kept a firm but soft grip on my hand.

"Very well then. In one week's time, the Bal de Masque will take place. Would you, Annika Walters, give me the permission to accompany you to this event?" He asked and I couldn't help but giggle a bit before nodding.

"I would love to go with you, Erik." I replied and a mildly shocked, but happy laugh of disbelief escaped from him.

"Until then, my dear. But for now, I think it is best to find you something dryer to wear, I would not want you to catch your death." He told me and I nodded, standing up from the terribly wet ground and walking towards the bedroom where I was allowed one half of the closet for my own clothing. Erik remained by the water and continued to look over its glassy, still surface, until I was completely changed and dried off. Only then did he rise from his place to enter the bedroom to change as well. I smiled to myself as I headed back towards Erik's organ. I sat down on its cushy bench and folded my hands in my lap, looking over his sheet music as my heartbeat raced happily in my ears.

"_Love never dies, love never falters._" I sang in as high a tone as I could muster. It still sounded very badly mutilated and I couldn't help but wince in disgust as my low tones bounced off the slick, rocky walls of the lair back to my ears. I took another, closer look at some of Erik's music made a quick decision that was probably not too good of one.

I placed my fingers on the ivory keys of Erik's organ like I had seen him do before, and pressed down lightly, drawing some sound. His written music looked like Greek to me as I carefully reenacted what I'd saw him do about a zillion times before. I let my eyes close and the image of his fingers moving flooded into my head, and I copied it exactly. I was so focused on the mental image, that I didn't even hear him behind me until Erik put a hand on my shoulder.

At once the picture faded and I turned to look at him, so sure that he would be angry. Instead of rage in his beautiful eyes, all I could see was pride as he sat down next to me.

"You read music?" He asked and I shook my head, making a confused look cross his face.

"I've got a short-term memory, but obviously not a good long-term one, and I've always loved to count things. The details are fuzzy before I found myself here, but I do remember a hospital. The doctors there said something about traces of Asperger's Syndrome, another illness that heightens memory and critical thinking." I said and lost look blossomed on Erik's face.

"Pardon?" He asked and I giggle a little bit.

"I can play that song because I've seen you do it before." I told him, simplifying my words and a look of understanding and amazement crossed his features.

"Incredible." He said under his breath. "Could you do it again?" He asked and I nodded, turning away from him to rest my fingers on the keyboard.

"Behold." I said in an over the top voice with a laugh before I closed my eyes and allowed the picture to swim in from my closed lids and guide my fingers across the ebony and ivory keys. I made a few errors here and there when my picture showed me a wrong note, but I knew that was just the Schizophrenic side of me. While my touch of Asperger's gave me my compulsive behavior and over-all good memory, my Schizo stored false information that I still felt confident was right.

I knew Erik was ignoring my minor errors, but I couldn't. They ate away at me like crazy, driving me nuts and before I even realized what I was doing, Erik had taken hold of both of my hands and gently pried them off the keys, holding them to keep me from playing anymore.

"Why did you stop me?" I asked "Was it really all that bad?" Erik shook his head and gave me a reassuring smile.

"No, you played beautifully, but Annika, you played the song three times in a row." He tole me and an embarrassed blush found its way onto my pale cheeks.

"I did?" I asked and he nodded. "Oh dear." He chuckled when I said this, making me smile as he shifted closer to me.

"Perhaps you should take a break and allow me?" he asked and I nodded. "What song would you have me play?" He asked and I racked my brain.

"Music of the Night?" I asked and he shook his head.

"I am afraid I cannot play that for you, my dear." He said and my face fell. I knew why though; he had written that song for Christine, not for me. I shook myself back to reality, I didn't care that Erik didn't want me to hear his song for Christine, I didn't want her left overs anyway.

"I understand." I replied.

"You do?" Erik asked and I nodded.

"Don't worry, just play me Masquerade, the song your music box sings." I said and he nodded.

"That I can do for you." I smiled as he placed his fingers carefully on the keys and began to play, singing along with his song.

"_Masquerade!_  
_Paper faces on parade . . ._  
_Masquerade!_  
_Hide your face,_  
_so the world will_  
_never find you!_

_Masquerade!_  
_Every face a different shade . . ._  
_Masquerade!_  
_Look around -_  
_there's another_  
_mask behind you!_

_Flash of mauve . . ._  
_Splash of puce . . ._  
_Fool and king . . ._  
_Ghoul and goose . . ._  
_Green and black . . ._  
_Queen and priest . . ._  
_Trace of rouge . . ._  
_Face of beast . . ._

_Faces . . ._  
_Take your turn, take a ride_  
_on the merry-go-round . . ._  
_in an inhuman race . . ._

_Eye of gold . . ._  
_Thigh of blue . . ._  
_True is false . . ._  
_Who is who . . .?_  
_Curl of lip . . ._  
_Swirl of gown . . ._  
_Ace of hearts . . ._  
_Face of clown . . ._

_Faces . . ._  
_Drink it in, drink it up,_  
_till you've drowned_  
_in the light . . ._  
_in the sound . . ."_

Erik paused and I grinned madly as he allowed me to join in.

"_But who can name the face . . .?" _I sang as high as I could. Erik began to sing again, with me in the background, letting his voice wash over me.

_"Masquerade!_  
_Grinning yellows,_  
_spinning reds . . ._  
_Masquerade!_  
_Take your fill -_  
_let the spectacle_  
_astound you!_

_Masquerade!_  
_Burning glances,_  
_turning heads . . ._  
_Masquerade!_  
_Stop and stare_  
_at the sea of smiles_  
_around you!_

_Masquerade!_  
_Seething shadows_  
_breathing lies . . ._  
_Masquerade!_

_You can fool_  
_any friend who_  
_ever knew you!_

_Masquerade!_  
_Leering satyrs,_  
_peering eyes . . ._  
_Masquerade!_  
_Run and hide -_  
_but a face will_  
_still pursue you!_"

Erik's voice faded away and it left me feeling a bit empty, but I didn't care. I loved the sound of his voice and I loved him. I noticed that his mask was replaced over the mangled side of his face and I immediately reached for it.

"It's still No Mask Friday." I reminded him and he let his gaze fall to the keys of his organ. I removed the thin piece of porcelain and his wig, giving him a beaming smile as no fear or disgust washed over me.

We sat there, singing songs and playing music for hours and for once, I felt truly happy, like i knew that this was where I was supposed to be; in a hole in the ground with a musical Phantom. This wasn't what I expected when I dreamed about telling him my secret, that was for damn sure, but I was happy, because all in all, I was moving too fast for his liking, not even giving Erik enough time to love me back, and with this, he could move at his own pace. It was wrong of me to be angry because he didn't immediately say he loved me back, and I suppose I realize now that these things take time. Erik was wounded, his heart was scarred and torn, loving him would not be easy, but I didn't mind trying, because I knew him, I knew all of him, and I adored every bit just the same.


	28. Chapter 28: Hide Your Face

**A/N: Hello everybody, how are we doing today? I am just fine and it is time for the infamous Bal de Masque scene. Just so that all of you know, I am working off of the musical version more than the movie as I really like that one better. I don't know, I guess I just like the pretty colors or something. Anyway, I'll be making minor changes to the Red Death costume that the Phantom wears, giving it my own spin and just so you know, a picture to Annika's dress is in my profile as we speak.**

**Some may ask why I do that, and to be perfectly honest; it's because I absolutely hate having to describe every little detail of her outfit like it's costume porn! So that's why I put up pictures in case you were just wondering.**

**Also, I have received PM's from someone -who shall go unnamed- asking me, wait, no, trying bugging me to change this story to M rated. I do not and will never write M rated stories. I do not like them very much and so, this will never happen. However, I have no problem with having Annika and Erik making out like there is no tomorrow. To those who do write M rated stories; no offense towards you guys intended at all; it's just not my cup of tea in the least.**

**Just one more thing; this chapter will be much longer than the rest of them, as I had to pull a lot of strings to make the last chapter work. **

**I think that about sums it up, so read, enjoy and review!**

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**_Chapter Twenty Eight: Hide Your Face_**

I am pretty sure that I was channeling Cinderella the night of the Bal de Masque.

As stupid as I'm sure that sounded, it was true, although technically, I had already found my handsome prince, and my carriage wasn't going to be turning into a pumpkin any time soon; unless of course Erik's boat was bewitched. But still, I found myself in the similar circumstance of not having anything to wear. It was odd really, as I thought for sure that Erik would have chosen something pretty for me to wear to the Masquerade, but lately, back then, he had become so very distant, as if he was hiding another great secret from me. Then again, this was Erik we were talking about, he was always hiding something.

I folded my shaking hands in my lap and gazed at myself i the mirror that Erik had ordered for me as a late Christmas present and gave myself a lopsided smile that turned out to look more like an ugly scowl. I flinched and sighed, letting my gaze drop as i thought about what i would be walking into. Erik would steal Christine's ring and remind her that she was still his, on our date.

Bummer.

"Why the long face, sweet heart?" I cringed when I heard the voice of Shock and I turned to see the strange woman who looked like a drowned theater goer step out from the slightly open closet door. A smirk was on her red lips and a gleam of happiness that really did frighten me shined in her dark, dark eyes. She sauntered over to me, swinging her hips and humming some song that I couldn't remember the title of, trying so very hard to look as sexy a humanly possible.

"What do you want, Shock? Come to bother me?" I asked and she clucked her tongue in a disappointed way. I rolled my eyes at her feigned act of offense and waited for her to cut to the chase.

"No," She began in a tone that clearly stated her annoyance at me already. "I have come to help you get ready for your little date!" She squeaked and I tried to suppress my glare.

"Why do you want to help? Sixty usually does these kinds of things, remember the gala, you were nowhere to be found if I recall correctly." I told her and she just giggled.

"Gala's are for children, Annika, you're a woman now, going on her very first date!" I shrugged and sighed, knowing I could use the help.

"Have at it then, I really do not care at all right now." I told her in a flat tone and she gave me a rare, genuine smile.

"That's the spirit that I am looking for, Annie baby, now, let's get on it then!" She walked closer to me and held her black gloved hands in the air, showing me what to do with my hair as she really couldn't touch me.

Close to, if not exceeding an hour later, I again looked in the mirror and I was absolutely shocked at what I saw. My hair looked bloody fantastic. a prefect hybrid of casual and classy, with half of it done in a braided bun and the other half falling loose down to just below my shoulders. I turned around and gave the sickly looking woman a big hug that she returned before turning away.

"I just wish I had a dress to go with it." I confessed to her and a smile lit up her eyes.

"Oh well, you know Erik, and personally, I think he's up to something." She said with a cackle and I gave her an odd, disbelieving look.

"And just how in bloody Hell do you know?" I asked and she shrugged.

"Annika, I think what you think, and sweet pea, you're already on to him, I'm just repeating what you already know." I gave her a soft glare and turned back to the mirror, fluffing my hair and turning this way and that to get a better look at it.

"Annika." My head snapped to the door when I heard Erik call my name and Shock let out an amused cackle.

"What?" I asked and she held up her hands in surrender.

"Nothing, not a damn this, now go get 'em, you lovesick hillbilly, you!" I rolled my eyes for one final time as she vanished into thin air in a puff of black smoke.

I flipped my hair over my shoulder and turned my head. "I'm coming, just give me a moment!" I shouted towards the door. I smoothed my skirt, trying to make myself look nice after my little pity fest. When I felt like I was ready a few minutes later, I stood up and walked towards the door, pushing on the center of it to get it to open as we never really got it fixed after that day so many months ago.

I smiled when I rounded the corner to see Erik, who stood up from his place at the organ. He was already dressed in his Red Death costume looking quite dapper but it was still a little bit frightening, as it was styled like his regular tuxedo dyed a blood red with a matching crimson cape. I wanted to ask him why he would be playing the organ in his costume but I held my tongue, as technically, his mask was still sitting on the makeup table. Besides, I had other pressing questions to ask and for a moment, I was confused what he wanted from me.

"You rang?" I asked in a faux posh British accent, making me smile.

"Yes, there is something I would like to give you, but on the condition that you close your eyes." He said and I nodded, closing my eyes and complying with his wishes. I heard the sound of him moving away and I wondered just what the Hell he was doing when half a moment later, he was back. "You may open your eyes now." He told me and instantly I let my lids flutter open. My jaw dropped to the floor.

Carefully held in Erik's arms was single handedly the most beautiful dress I had ever seen, and resting on top of the corseted bodice was a mask. The dress was made of solid black velvet with sleeves that reached the wrist and a rectangular neck line. It had a full skirt, but not so much so that it would be restricting, and it took me a few moments to register that this was not a masquerade gown at all; it was a funeral dress.

I was slightly horrified by this, as I wondered what morbid thoughts could be swirling around in Erik's twisted mind until I really looked and saw the mask. It was also sold black, with much more applique in the form of dead roses and feathers on the side, but what caught my attention was the black veil that hung in front of it, like a mourning widow would.

The realization hit me not two seconds later.

_Erik, you're a genius. _I thought to myself with a grin. Erik intended for us to somewhat match and I was to go as the Black Plague. I almost laughed at how smart that was, but I held it in, settling for a beaming smile.

"You're so smart." I told him and he nodded as I took the dress. "I'll be back in a few. Nice costume by the way." I complemented. I raced back up the stairs as carefully as I could and was changed in fifteen minutes flat.

Erik was waiting for me down at the lake shore, readying the boat. His mask covered his face but he still looked handsome and impressive to me. I smiled at him from behind the veil in front of my face and I could've sworn that I got a small one in return as I reached the lake. Erik held out his hand for me to take and I did, feeling much more like a lady when Erik helped me into the boat to make sure I didn't fall or slip or anything.

When we were all set, Erik dipped the tip of his oar into the glassy water and pushed off from the lair. He hummed a song that I didn't know the name to as he rowed towards the other side of the lake. He took his time, making sure we were steady as he continued to sing. I let my eyes close and allowed myself to imagine what would happen tonight. Maybe my fears wouldn't be correct, maybe I would get to dance the night away with the Opera Ghost.

Before I knew it, I heard the gentle thump of the boat hitting the opposite shore. I opened my eyes to see Erik stepping out and quickly I stood as well, wobbling a little bit before stepping onto the flat ground again. I righted my dress where it had become a bit rumpled during the boat ride and took Erik's arm when he offered it to me, as though we were a real couple.

I noticed then in Erik's other arm a leather bound package. Written on the front in silver lettering read _Don Juan Triumphant. _His opera masterpiece was complete at last, and I couldn't wait to see it.

Erik led me down the barely lit passage way, patting my hand to console me when a rat scurried past. I hated rats, and I didn't even know if these ones were real. I was tired by the time we came to the staircase leading to the rafters, but I persevered and climbed the winding steps just behind Erik, my hand still held in his.

The Opera Ghost led me along the planks of wood, shushing me every time I was way too loud, and then showed me yet another passage, one that lead to one of the rooms near the front hall in the Opera Populaire. He pushed on a painting that swung open like a door and held it open for me like the true gentleman he was.

We stood in a large, square room that was hung with paintings and rich tapestries. I could hear the party in full swing in just the other room, but I knew it wasn't Erik's time yet, he didn't come to the masquerade to dance with me; he came to threaten Christine and show off his musical. This somehow made me sad, but I didn't dwell on it, that would ruin me and my first 'date'.

I sat down on one of the benches and sighed, trying to look happy as Erik sat down next to me. I could still hear the music and I looked longingly towards the double doors. Erik noticed and he exhaled loudly as well.

"Would you like to go and join the party?" He asked. "I am sure you could find a nice boy yo dance with." I shook my head, placing my hand over his.

"I want to dance with you, no one else." I told him. "And if you don't feel comfortable joining the masses, that's just fine with me." I said positively.

"Do you really mean that?" He asked and I nodded, which made a ghost of a smile light up his face. "Very well then, Annika Walters, may I have this dance?" He stood and held out his hand to me, just like in my dream, but in my dream, I was scared and it felt wrong. But standing there in that square room with Erik in his Red Death costume felt so right and so I accepted his over to dance and allowed him to lead me out into the center of the floor.

He placed one hand on my hip and took the other in his. Slowly, he took a step back, and then another, taking me with him as we waltzed around the room, my skirt getting caught in the way sometimes.

"I'm sorry, I'm not that great of a dancer." I confessed to him as he spun me out. He shook his head.

"Nonsense, you dance beautifully." He assured me and I believed him until he spun me back in and I stepped on his foot. He did nothing to make me feel bad for making the mistake; he just told me to be a bit more careful.

As the song wore on, I grew more and more comfortable until I finally rested my head on his shoulder, allowing him to lead. He seemed shocked by this, as he went a bit still, but he kept on dancing. If I looked up, I would've seen a small smile on his face, but I didn't, I kept my head down as I breathed in the smell of his cologne and fresh sheet music.

When the song ended and a more upbeat one began, Erik stopped and lead me off the dance floor. I tried to look as though I wasn't too upset that the spell was broken and we were back to reality, but I was. I sat down on the bench again and waited for Erik to give me the word that he was ready. I'm pretty sure that I sat there for at least another forty minutes before Erik took my arm and lead me towards the French doors.

"_Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!" _I heard the people sing as the music went dark and Erik and I walked out in to the party. It felt kind of awesome, being Erik's date I meant, and looking very impressive standing there in our awesome costumes with his arm wrapped around my waist. I smirked, no one would know it was me, most of them were sure I was dead, if any even remembers me at all.

"_Why so silent, good Monsieur's?" _Erik sang in a sarcastic tone. "_Did you think that we had left you for good?_" I gave my most evil smile and tried to look scary, I was having a ton of fun, more so than I thought I would.

"_Have you missed us, Good Monsieur's?" _I sang back as best as I could while Erik descended the steps with me on his arm. _"He has written you an opera." _Erik held the package up to show everyone.

_"Here I bring the finished score."_Suddenly, Erik threw it down at the Managers feet. "_Don Juan Triumphant!"_ Erik drew his sword and a few chorus girls shrieked and the hapless bimbo's that served as the dates for the managers squealed.

_"Fondest greetings, to you all." _I sang as Erik branched off from my arm, leaving me standing there.

"_A few instructions, just before rehearsal starts." _Erik sauntered over to Carlotta, who was dressed as... winter maybe? The freaky-looking woman was clinging to Piangi tightly and she let out a shrill scream when Erik approached her. "_Carlotta mus be taught to act." _Erik insulted, making me snigger.

_"Not her usual trick of strutting round the stage."_I cackled as the dumb woman glared at me. Erik gave me an amused look and then moved on to Piangi. I noticed Raoul, who was dressed as a fop, slip away from Christine, who was... a fairy princess maybe? And I smiled at his stupidity.

"_Our Don Juan must lose some weight, it's not healthy for a man of Piangi's age." _This made me snicker again as I turned on the managers. This would be pay back for calling me crazy.

"_And our managers must learn that their business is in JUNK! Not the arts. For that is what you have been making since the start!" _I lunged a bit towards Grizzly and Elvis, who shrank back. I sneered at their crappy costumes, which were mockery's of the Phantom. Mme. Giry was in her normal attire, with the addition of a new collar and the only one who looked cute was Meg, who was a circus ringleader. I gave her a kind smile and a wink as her mouth fell open in realization. She grabbed her mother's arm and gestured to me in a way that was discrete enough for no one to notice. Mme. Giry's mouth set into a firm line as she scowled at me. I couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"_As for our star, Christine Daae." _I scowled when Erik said her name.

_"No doubt she'll try, my dear Phantom, her voice has potential, she knows this_." I paused to give her a pointed glare._ "But she still has much to lean, she is nothing without your teaching... your teaching." _Erik seemed to sense the jealousy in my voice for he put a hand on my arm. I relaxed a little bit when he did that but Christine seemed even more on edge, I just couldn't believe that she hadn't figured it out yet; Meg did.

_"You will always be mine."_ Erik sang and I gave him a small smile. "You belong to me." This time he spoke, and it made my heart flutter. It was no to last however, as at that very moment, Raoul came charging back with his weapon clenched in his hand. In a split-second decision, Erik dropped a fiery smoke bomb and grabbed me around the waist. I suppressed the urge to scream as the ground disappeared from beneath us and dropped us to the chamber below.

I was surrounded by mirrors and the smoke was blinding. I thrashed about, trying to find Erik and I squeaked when my legs gave out beneath me and I was swept up into a bridal style hold. I looked up and through my watering eyes I saw Erik holding me, making sure that he had a tight grip on me and I stopped fighting.

I let my eyes water as they stung from the smoke and I barely noticed Erik walking until he placed me in the boat. Only then did I open my eyes.

"Do your eyes sting, Annika?" Erik asked me and I nodded weakly. He picked up the oar and began to row back to the lair. "I apologize, it was not my intention to hurt you." I waved off his apology passively.

"Don't worry about it, it's not too bad." I replied and Erik went silent for a bit.

"I highly doubt that this was the fresh start you had in mind, and again, please accept my apology." Erik said and i couldn't help but snort.

"Please, honey, that was so much fun! Did you see Carlotta's face?" I cackled and from above me I heard Erik laugh. I didn't let him carry me back into the lair, it just felt too corny for me, and he understood. I sat down on my chair and closed my eyes as Erik returned with a damp cloth to place over them.

"Rest now, Annika. Tonight was an ordeal for us both." I nodded and yawned.

"Hey, Erik?" I asked as he turned to leave. "That was the best first date ever."


	29. Chapter 29: Burning Up Inside

**A/N: I kind of lied when I said that I still had three more chapters left. This is the second-last one. It's almost over you guys! IT'S ALMOST OVER! Excuse me, I'm just really emotional and even still, we do have a sequel coming up soon! Anyway, I just want to say thanks so much for your continued support with this story. I'll give you the whole speech next chapter but thank you guys so, so much. **

**Also, I have majorly changed some of the lyrics to the songs, I try to make them work and if you hate them, I'm sorry.  
**

**Without further ado, enjoy!**

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty Nine: Burning Up Inside**_

Despite their idiocy, I have to admit that the way the managers handled having to completely forget about doing Faust for this season and instead do Don Juan Triumphant was really impressive.

In accordance to Erik's wishes, Carlotta was given a non-speaking role (I almost kissed him again for that) Piangi was given Don Juan, and Christine was cast as Aminta. The sets were followed exactly as to his design and while I could hear the maestro screaming at how difficult the music was to conduct; they followed it exactly. Nobody was dumb enough to mess with Erik this time around, not after the Carlotta frog incident, which was still laughed at by many a stagehand.

While I do admit that I admire Erik's creativity with Don Juan, I have to say that I honestly didn't like it. I know, I sound like a horrible person, but it was true. The music was a masterpiece, but the story wasn't clever, funny or smart. In a word, it was mean. Get this; Don Juan and his servant Passarino make plans to seduce a young woman by tricking her into thinking that she's really sleeping with someone else. I had no idea how that made sense, as I always thought Don Juan could've just asked her the normal way instead of making a scheme so complicated it would make a cartoon villain blush.

I really don't know why Erik wrote it like that, was it a metaphor for how he had been tricked all his life? Possibly. Was it supposed to represent how men would do anything to get with a woman, even if it made no sense? Most likely. Either way, the opera made me sad, but even still, I told Erik that I would go to support him and didn't mention my confusion at his masterpiece.

My Phantom rented me out box five for the evening and it was on the night of the debut and the closing that I once again found myself in front of the mirror. This time was not, however, a dilemma about what to wear; but more what to do. Was this really my life? What about after tonight? I knew that Erik was planning something that included Christine, but I had no idea what, I couldn't remember any of it.

_You have to face it some time, Annika. _I told myself. _Erik needs Christine. He always had, he always will. You were a nice distraction for a little bit, but it isn't the kind of love that lasts. _I nodded to myself in the mirror and stood up, pushing back from the table and heading out of the bedroom. It felt odd outside, like I wasn't going to be back here any time soon after tonight. It really was the point of no return I guessed, as I walked around the lair, memorizing every detail.

I smiled as I saw Erik's little model of the stage directly above our heads. His chandelier was in place where it should have been, and the little figurines of him and Christine were set up on stage for tonight's performance. I furrowed my brow and took a closer look at the box five, another grin coming to my face when I saw the little doll likeness of me sitting there. I opened the box that held all of the other little dolls and dug around until I found what I was looking for.

Down in the bottom of the box was a small doll likeness of Erik in his regular tuxedo. I ran my fingers over his face, which had an incredible resemblance, and gently removed the tiny mask from the side of his face as well as the wig. Erik was a detail nutcase and underneath, the deformity was just as his was, and on his scalp was wisps of his blonde hair.

"Hey Erik, do you think I-" I stopped when I realized he wasn't there. He told me he was going out for a bit and I was cool with it, he would always come back and I'd forgotten he wasn't there. I shrugged, putting the little Erik in the pocket of my black dress that had become my favorite, and reminded myself to ask his permission for me to keep it later.

I wondered what was keeping him so long, as the show would be starting in a few hours, but I dwell on it too much, Erik was always punctual, no matter what. One thing that did calm me was playing Erik's organ. He allowed me to do this and only me after I proved to him that I could take care of it. He knew that I valued his one true love more than my own life, and he knew that when I played, I played seriously.

I sat myself down on the cushioned organ bench and carefully placed my fingers on the keys, closing my eyes and playing the theme from Don Juan. I loved t play the organ, it was such a powerful instrument, it really made me feel much bigger and much better than I really was. It filled me with joy and happiness that could not be matched and it gave me an outlet to any destructive emotions I needed to get rid of.

"Hey girl!" I jerked myself out of my musical fantasy when Sixty skipped into the room.

"How's it hanging, bestie?" I asked in a bland tone and she just smiled.

"Well I don't know, I haven't kissed any guys in the last week!" She exclaimed and my eyes widened.

"You were spying?" I asked, my voice reaching a new octave at the end of my sentence.

"I don't have to spy, I live in your mind, I saw the whole damn thing!" She said in a cheerful voice that was not uncommon with her. "By the way, trying to kill yourself? Not awesome." She said, her tone changing and I held my hands up in surrender.

"Jeez, I'm sorry." I said and she shook her head.

"Whatever. You've got a show to watch soon and your boyfriend is looking at you like you're crazy!" She said in her chipper voice and I cocked an eyebrow.

"What are you-?" I stopped when I turned my head towards the lake to see Erik; soaking to death and panting by the water. He was staring up at me like I was nuts and immediately I shooed Sixty away and ran down the beaten path to the water's edge. "Erik!" I exclaimed and he gave me a 'don't worry about me' face.

"I am fine, Annika. Don't fret, I am unharmed." He reassured but I wasn't buying it.

"What the Hell happened?"I asked when I got close enough to see he had a black eye.

"The young Vicomte wished to duel." He merely said and my jaw dropped.

"You had a fist fight with Raoul?" I exclaimed and he shook his head.

"No, I had a duel with Raoul and he lost. I was distracted for a moment by a third party and he took that chance to assault me." He replied and I gave him a glare.

"Was that third party Christine?" I asked and I didn't hear him say no. "Oh great job! She'll pull out of the play now and all it will be is dancing whores!" I shrieked. Erik gave me a warning glare, telling me to quit while I was still breathing.

"Do not try my patience, Annika. I am not in the mood." I sighed and nodded.

"Okay, I got that. But you need to get the swelling down before something seriously bad happens." I replied and dashed off to get a cold compress. When I returned, I found Erik at his makeup table, his face looking normal again. I eyed him curiously and was about to give him proper Hell for doing that, but a look from him told me to just shut up for once.

"So, what happened?" I asked and Erik sighed.

"I went to the graveyard in hopes of finding Miss Daae, and instead her suitor was waiting, she was merely a clever tool to get me there." He said and let my gaze fall to the ground.

"And what's the plan for tonight?" I questioned. "Has it changed?" Erik turned and shook his head.

"No, my dear. You shall attend the opera with me, in box five, and you will stay there, do not follow me when I leave." He told me and I furrowed my brow.

"Why not?" Where will you be going?" I think my questions angered Erik because he was one his feet in a flash.

"That is none of your business!" He snapped and I shrunk away from him, nodding. Erik looked as though he regretted his anger, and softened his tone and demeanor but it was too late, I had scampered off to the bedroom. I read some book whose title is now unimportant to me until I heard the softest knock possible on the door.

"Come in." I said just as softly and three seconds later, Erik, dressed in his tuxedo and white mask opened the door.

"We should be leaving now." He said and I nodded, standing up. I grabbed my mask for in case anybody looked up and noticed me and walked past him as he held the door for me. "Annika," He began but I cut him off.

"Erik, it's okay, now come on. We're going to be late." I said, brushing past him and heading towards yet another secret passageway within the lair. It was located just behind his organ and lead straight to box five, which I'm pretty sure is how Erik saved me from Buquet the first time.

_"Seal my fate tonight, I hate to have to cut the fun short but the joke's wearing thin, let the audience in, let my opera begin!" _Erik sang as he pushed a secret button and a panel came loose from behind the organ, revealing a dark passageway. He took my arm and lit a candle so we could see. Just like in the other passageways, it was infested with disgusting rats that had me very on edge, but Erik's arm around my waist calmed me as he lead me to the best seat in the house.

Erik was great with his timing. Minutes after we had sat down, the lights dimmed and the curtain rose. No time was given to the guards stationed below to see if we were even there. I kept my arm around Erik's and squeezed it tighter as the thrilling music began. Halfway into the first verse, I looked down to the audience and smirked. They didn't know what to make of it. Yes, the lyrics were raunchy and the choreography a bit dirty, but it was fun, it was shocking.

Within two seconds of thinking that, I finally got what Erik was trying to do and say with this opera. It wasn't about the story, it was about the controversy and the new way to compose suspenseful music; it was _supposed _to shock you and take you out of your comfort zone. I looked to Erik, who seemed just as amused with the crowds reaction as I was. I watched the Opera carefully, as well as keeping an eye on the audience and while some made rather loud noises of protest, none stood up and left, they were too entranced.

Halfway through Don Juan's plotting, Erik stood and left without another word. I watched him go sadly, but said nothing as well. I just turned my head back to watch Christine's solo. The poor little brunette looked terrified to be singing up there and for a moment, I almost felt bad for her. Then again, her 'one true love' Raoul didn't seem to care that he was putting her in great danger (or he was too dense to realize it) and in all honesty, I didn't care either. Raoul was an idiot and so was Christine.

I hoped that they would be happy together, living in a perfect house with perfect a wedding and had perfect sex that gave them perfect kids with perfect faces that grew up to have perfect jobs and perfect families of their own and everything would be just perfect, perfect, PERFECT!

After I had gotten over my little freak-out, I settled down to watch the rest of the show. I was on the edge of my seat by the time that Don Juan would fool Aminta, but even from the high distance, I could see that the man who was singing Past the Point of No Return was not Piangi, it was Erik! I knew his rocky yet smooth voice anywhere, and it seemed that ditzy little Christine didn't, for she just kept singing and singing. If she did know, I have to admit, she was one great little actress.

They moved together fluidly, a beautiful dance as they both ascended to the higher part of the set. Just when I thought I had seen everything, Erik began to sing a different song. His voice grew soft and I could barely hear him, but I was still able to make out the words.

"_Say I'll be alright, even without you." _I strained my ears harder to listen to what he had to sing. "_Free me, leave me, you'll survive this too." _I don't think I'd ever heard Erik sound so sad. _"Say you loved me, but you've learned, what that is." _Erik turned to look at her, holding Christine's hand. _"Please Christine, for once, tell me the truth. That's all I've ever asked of-" _Erik was cut off by the sound of screams. It took me two seconds to realize that Christine had unmasked him in front of everyone.

Mass hysteria reigned supreme for five seconds as Erik gave Christine and angry glare and then drew his sword, turned, and cut the rope keeping the chandler up. As the huge piece of metal and crystal began to shake and swing back and forth, the Phantom kicked a lever, making the two of them drop down below the stage. I stood up, turning towards the secret passage way as the people screamed below me. I turned back to look for one second to see the huge chandelier finally give way and come crashing down on the audience. A flame sparked up from the crash and within seconds, the velvets seats caught fire and all too soon, the Opera house was ablaze.

"The ghost, he attacked me!" I heard Piangi exclaim as I headed towards my secret exit.

"Wait, girl, you promised Erik!" Sixty shouted from behind me and I ignored her.

"Promise or no promise, I won't stay here to die!" I shrieked, but turned to find that Sixty was already gone. I ran as fast as my dress would allow me down the passageway. I heard the voices of Christine, Raoul and especially Erik before I saw them.

_"THIS IS THE POINT OF NO RETURN!" _I silently slid open the panel, shaking on the inside. Erik sounded so angry, so inhumanly angry. I was afraid of him, and I was never afraid of him before. My eyes widened at the strange sight as I ripped off my mask. Erik was standing knee deep in the lake, with Christine, who was on the shore and wearing the wedding dress that was on the mannequin that I glowered at for so long. Raoul was tied to the gate that came down to cut off the lake from the lair with a noose around his neck. He wouldn't last long with the rope pulled so tight and even if I didn't like the Vicompte at all, I still found my voice to defend him.

"Erik, no!" I shouted and ran towards the lake shore. His eyes flew to me and were wide with shock. He stared at me as I raced towards the water's edge.

"Annika. Leave, get out of here!" He ordered and I shook my head.

"No." I said in my most confident voice.

"Annika. Go now, I do not want you to see this." He said in a low, dangerous voice. Despite my fear I shook my head.

"You don't want me to watch you murder someone in cold blood?" I asked and his mouth opened as if to say something but he never did. I stepped into the water, not caring if my dress got wet. "Erik, you want to shield me from the monster that you make yourself out to be. You are not evil, you are not bad, but you believe it because people say it is so." I told him, taking a few more steps towards him.

"Annika, I-" I cut Erik off with a look.

"Don't. Please, just don't. This isn't what you want." I said, my voice cracking as tears pricked my eyes. "What will this get you? What will you have to gain?" I asked but he didn't answer me. "She doesn't love you. You told her to tell you the truth and she did, she doesn't love you, but I still do, I always have." Erik stared at me like I was mad for a moment. "I am not Christine, but, you can have me. If it makes you happy, you can have me." Christine gaped at me as if she couldn't believe that I just said that.

"How?" Erik asked and for a moment, I was confused. "How can you love me, after what I have done?" He sounded so hurt, so angry, and yet just as scared as I was.

"You once said that I had done what no one else could; I made you feel human." My voice was soft, but loud enough for everyone to hear what I had to say. "Well, despite all you have ever done, you make me feel human too. You took my hand and led me out into the light and showed me your world and all it had to offer. That is why I love you; because you made me see you." Tears were flowing freely down my face by the time I was done speaking and I found myself standing not an inch away from Erik.

"Annika." I supposed he didn't mean it to come out like a strangled question, but it did.

"And now that I've seen, I never want to be blind again." This time, it was Erik who closed the distance between us and swept me into a long, passionate kiss. He was in tears as well by the time we pulled away and he kept an arm around my waist to keep me from falling over, just as I kept my hands on his chest to keep him from doing the same.

"I love you, Annika Walters, and if it makes you happy, you can have me as well." I flung my arms around his neck, burying my face into his shoulder as I sobbed uncontrollably. I had hoped and dreamed and wished that he would say those three little words to me for so long that now, it was just too much.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." I must've said it a thousand times before I regained composure of myself and dared to look him in the eye again. All I could see was him as I hugged him tightly for what felt like forever. But it was all over in less than two minutes. Erik snapped his head to the side and he pulled me closer to him in fear. The mob was coming.

"Go." He said, looking to Christine and then to Raoul. "Go now and never speak of what has happened here." Erik made quick work of the noose around Raoul's neck, loosening it and setting the young fop free. Christine rushed to him, pressing kisses to his cheeks while Erik raised the gate.

"Take the boat." I said the the brunette, who nodded. I noticed Erik running up to the bedroom and turned to follow him when Christine grabbed my arm.

"Are you sure, Annika?" She asked me and all I did was smile.

"Yes Christine, I am quite sure." I replied.

"Then give him this for me." She said, letting go of my arm to pry the wedding ring off of her finger. I took it and gave her one last good bye before I turned and raced towards the bedroom, following Erik. I opened the door to see him gathering the important things, like his mask and such. I also noticed that he was leaving behind his Persian monkey.

"Aren't you taking him?" I asked and he shook his head.

"No, we must leave now and it is too heavy." He replied and I nodded. I decided not to grab any of my dresses or trinkets because they would weigh us down and in the end, all Erik took before exiting the bedroom was his mask and Christine's ring. Erik snaked an arm around my waist as we descended to the main level of the lair to see Christine and Raoul leave in the boat.

"Here." I said giving Erik the ring. He kissed me on the forehead in thanks before looking at the ring one last time and with that, he threw it out over the lake and it sunk like a rock.

_"You alone give life to what I write." _Erik sang, smiling at me in a disbelieving way. _"It's just begun, the Music of the Night." _I smiled right back at him as he grabbed a blunt object and ran over to the mirrors that hung on the far wall. He drew back the heavy red curtains and hit one of the reflective surfaces with such a force that it shattered.

He did this to each one until he came to the last and with a well-timed swing, the glass broke away to reveal a secret passage. He made it safe for me and then took my hand, leading me down the darkened passageway.

We were half way there when I heard it.

"Persis, where are you going?" My heart hammered in my chest. It was her. I stopped dead and Erik looked to me with concern.

"What is it, my dear? What have you forgotten?" He asked and I shook my head, drawing him into a kiss that made my head spin.

"I have to go, Erik. She's calling me. But please don't think that I don't love you, and I swear on my life that I will never leave you." I told him, turning on my heel and walking back the way I came. I looked back to see him standing there and he wouldn't escape unless he kept going. "Go!" I shouted to him and he stood still. "If you love me, you'll go!" Then I turned and walked back down the passageway, never looking back.

* * *

"Sycamore." I said bitterly as I reentered the lair. My breath left my body the moment I laid eyes on the horrible sight. Sycamore was there, floating on the water and behind her, an army of rats. Beside her stood Symmetry; her red hair was black and her dress was now tattered she looked like a horrible mess. Erik-bot was there as well, and his flesh looked as though it was rotting off on both sides now.

"Ah Persis, my darling, I am so glad to see you." Sycamore squealed in her high, girlish voice.

"And why is that?" I snapped, making her giggle.

"Because we can't have fun without you!" I screamed when I felt her scratch on my brain. The pain was unbearable as she dragged her claws through my skin and I though I would die until the hurting subsided.

"Leave her alone!" I turned my head to see Sixty standing there, her fists clenched. Beside her was Shock, along with her daughters Jinx ans Scissors. We were hopelessly outnumbered and my hope began to fade.

"I can't do this." I Whispered. "I can't, I'm going to fail." As if an answer to my prayers, a voice called out to me from the roof above.

"Is that really all I ever taught you my dear, for if it is, it is I that has failed." A smile broke out onto my face as Goblin swooped down from the ceiling and landed beside me. I wanted to hug him and smack him at the same time, but we had bigger fish to fry.

"I hope you've got your plan ready."I heard Shock whisper to me and I looked to her in, well... shock.

"What?" I asked and she looked surprised.

"Your plan, remember?" Sixty asked me and I shook my head.

"No, Sycamore's the one with the plan!" I said and Shock shook her head.

"No, Annie baby, you are the one with the plan, Sycamore is weak here, you brought us here to defeat her!" She told me and I shook my head.

"I didn't!" Their faces fell. "I don't know what's going on here, but Shock, you told me about her plan!" I said to her and she shook her head.

"No Annika, this was all your plan, you just didn't know it." I looked back out to Sycamore, who was cackling with glee.

"Oh Persis, I should have known you would be too stupid to try to stop me! You belong to me." I shook my head.

"No, this was my plan all along, you are the one who is powerless, you are the one who sent your spies after me to try to find out what was going on because you were afraid." I said in a steely voice. "You built a robot to try and distract me but now I see everything. This was always my plan I just didn't notice it." I took a defensive stance, walking towards the water.

"Persis-" I shut her up with a dirty look.

"No. Shut up." I commanded. "Get out of my mind." I whispered and she looked to me in fear.

"What?" She asked and I let a triumphant smirk play on my lips.

"GET OUT OF MY MIND!" I shrieked as Sixty lunged forward, flashing her nails and digging them in Erik-bots face. Goblin took off into the air, cracking the spines of the millions of rats that flooded towards us. A strong gust of wind hit me from behind and I turned to see Shock stabbing at the rats with such a force that it knocked them away.

My eyes were only on Sycamore, who was backing away from me in fear. This made me gleeful as I began to walk towards her. She stumbled on the carcass of one of her followers and hit the ground hard, crying out as I towered over her. I picked up a sharp rock from the bottom of the lake and held it above my head.

"Goodbye." I whispered as I brought my arm down, driving the rock into her heart. She screamed and black blood gushed from her mouth and ears, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust. She stretched a pale hand up towards me and gripped my throat, chocking me and dragging me down beneath the water with her.

The last thing I saw was the fire in her eyes go out as the darkness surrounded me.


	30. Chapter 30: Beautiful

**A/N: Okay you guys; this is it, the final chapter of More than a dream. I have already decided that there will be a sequel and I'm contemplating making this a trilogy. Coming to the end of this story has made me reflect just why I wrote it, and if it was any good. Personally, I believe Annika is a major Mary-Sue, and that the plot is mostly just fluff, but still, I have to say thank you to all of my reviewers, all of my fabulous favoriters and alerter's, this could never have been possible without you and your support has helped me so much.**

**Also, I have to give a big, big thank you and virtual hug to PhantomFan01 for being my first reviewer, as I was so sure that this would be just another one of my bad, unpopular stories and just one review was enough to keep me going, so thanks so much for your continued support. **

**Again, another thank you to judybear236 for their beta help, and when the sequel and maybe threequel is done and finished, I will go back and rewrite this story and make the changes, I have every single chapter PM saved for me to use. **

**To symmetry888, a big thank you for letting me use your name, and yes, Symmetry does have a bigger part in the sequel. **

**So right now I'm sure you're wondering just what the Hell I'm talking about as I keep mentioning a sequel but I'm not giving you any details and so... the name of the sequel, I have decided will be Less Than a Nightmare, and it will be in the Love Never Dies section of plays and musicals. Please give me lots of reviews for when I post it, which will be quite soon. **

**Lots of love and thank you guys so much,**

**The Incredible Nameless Wonder, Annika, Sixty, Goblin, Shock, Jinx, Scissors, Symmetry and Sycamore. **

**Update: The sequel; Less Than a Nightmare is up now!**

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty: Beautiful**_

A dim light burned form behind my eyes as I regained consciousness and I began to wonder where I was. There was a dull but still very painful ache in the back of my skull, but that wasn't the worst of it. Everything in my head was silent, like there was no one but me in it. That was odd because usually there was someone chattering away about nothing, but that day, it was utterly still. After about five or maybe six minutes of just waiting to see what would happen, I opened my eyes and almost didn't believe what I saw.

I was lying on my back on a bed, with my copy of _The Phantom of the Opera _resting on my chest surrounded by four white walls and a barred window.

I was back in the hospital.

Reality hit me with such a force that it almost knocked me off my feet. It was all fake. Christine, Raoul and Meg weren't real at all, they were just figments of my imagination. I had dreamed them up. The love I felt for Erik, it wasn't even real! I felt fresh tears pricking my eyes as I looked outside of the window at the world outside.

Raindrops pounded against the window and thin forks of lightning lit up the dark, cloudy sky. Usually, I loved weather like that, but there was a pain in my chest that was ruining the beautiful day; a pain that spread from my chest to my torso to my neck and eventually consumed my entire body like it was giving in to some terrible disease.

Was I dead? I didn't know, I couldn't really feel anything.

Maybe it was a punishment; maybe Sycamore had killed me and I got to spend an eternity in Hell. I surveyed the room again and I had to admit, if it was Hell, Satan really knew me.

I looked to the calendar that was on the far side of the room as my mouth fell open at the date; it was the exact same as when I had left. This struck me odd, as I had fallen into a catatonic state a few times before when I was very little, but I could never remember what had gone on during one of them. What I had went through was different; everything felt so real. Erik felt cold, the lair felt damp, I felt love! And when i would fall into one of my dreams, it was like a coma. I spent three months in an unresponsive haze when I was just six years old!

It seemed as though I hadn't even moved at all since I went to bed the night before it all happened.

My gaze then turned to the clock that read 8:28 in small, neon red letters. In mere minutes I knew that a nurse would come in to wake me up to start the day. I sat up, the pain in my chest remaining constant as I smoothed out my hair and dried my eyes. I would be questioned if I was crying, and if I even mentioned that I had a nightmare, I knew that the doctors would up my medication doses even more. Slowly, I was becoming brain dead through all of the pills and injections I received, and even though I realized that my time spent with Erik was just a nightmare to taunt me, I could never tell the staff here.

At 8:30 on the nose, the nurse opened the door of my small, white washed room. She wore a pristine and flawless uniform with a name tag with her name written on it in too small a print for me to read. She gave me a bright smile that showed off her white teeth behind full, red lips and said good morning.

"Same to you." I grumbled, swinging my legs over the side.

"Oh, Annika." She said in a cheery voice. "Why so sad? I'm sure Doctor Hendrix will visit. But for now, I'm here to bring you some happy news!" Her voice was seriously annoying by that point, but nobody spoke up in my mind to tell her to shut up.

"What?" I snapped and her smile faltered for a moment before returning.

"Because your therapist has been relocated, the hospital feels it's good for you to have a constant companion and so, we're introducing the buddy system!" My eyes widened.

"Are you serious?" I asked and she nodded. By that time I had accepted that my time with Erik was nothing more than a dream that stung to remeber, but the pain hadn't faded from my chest, and it became even more fiery knowing that I would have to talk to someone new.

"Why, yes of course!" She piped and then turned to hold the door open. "Eugene, come in here please!" My mouth fell open wider as a boy around my age walked into the room. He had on a look of disgust that faded when he saw me sitting there on the edge of the bed and I was instantly floored by how... strange he looked.

His hair was black. Not naturally of course, but dyed that way. Highlights at his roots indicated that he was a ginger, and his eyes were a glittering, painfully light blue, like most of the pigment had been drained out. His skin was pale, and very faint scars were present on his hands. He was dress in a pair of dark wash jeans and a black sweater, but even the bulkiness of his clothing couldn't hide how thin he was.

I liked him instantly.

"Eugene, this is your new friend, Annika." Even though I did feel like I could trust the young man, I still had to protest against sleeping in the same room with him.

"Are you crazy?" I asked in an angry voice and the Eugene boy smirked at the irony. "I can't sleep in the same room with a boy!" The nurse shook her head and looked to her clip board.

"Annika, you'll be fine. Eugene is harmless." She told me but it brought no comfort. The nurse left soon after and I was left alone with the boy.

"You shouldn't worry." He advised me after a moment of silence.

"Why not?" I asked and he shrugged, moving towards the bed. I didn't shrink back and he sat down next to me at a comfortable distance.

"Because I'm asexual right now." He replied and I furrowed my brow.

"That's impossible." I replied matter-of-factually. "You must want to sleep with something." I said and he shook his head.

"Nope." I blinked and looked him up and down before giving him I smile. I extended my hand out to him and he shook it.

"My name is Annika. Call me Annie." I told him and he smiled back.

"Call me Gene." It was at that moment that I felt a surge of curiosity.

"What are you in for?" I asked, making Gene smile brighter.

"Anger management and OCD, you?" I shrugged.

"Schizophrenia, but my friends are missing." I gave Gene a distressed look and I saw no indication that he found this weird at all. He remained where he was and nodded.

"No worries, Annie. I'm sure you'll find 'em." His words gave me comfort as he looked down to the bed and saw my copy of _The Phantom of the Opera. _

"Wow. No way! You like _Phantom_?" He asked and I nodded. He gently picked up the book and turned it over in his hands. "Have you seen the musical?" I shook my head and his face lit up. "Well then, I, Eugene Harris-Baxter promise to take you to see it one day." He said with a nod. "We phans have to stick together!" I laughed at his joke and moved an inch closer.

"You know, I went there. I met the Phantom." I told him and his eyes widened, but he didn't look like he didn't believe me.

"Prove it." He said simply and I shook my head.

"I can't." I said, turning away from him before I could see the disappointment in his eyes. At that moment, I felt an object in the pocket of my hospital gown hit the side of my leg. I gave a surprised look down and reached my shaking hand inside. I gasped when I pulled out the little doll of Erik, his mask and wig still gone.

I was there. It really happened.

The pain that was in my chest escalated, as truly I has been expelled from heaven, but then it dropped. Erik was real, my love was real, and someday, I would find my way back to him.

"Here!" I exclaimed, turning back to Gene, showing him the little doll. "I took this, from his lair just before I woke up here. You see? I really was there." Gently, Gene took the little doll likeness of Erik from me and turned it over in his hands, searching for a manufacturer's print.

"That's amazing." He whispered and I nodded.

"Now do you believe me?" I asked and he nodded.

"I believe you." He said and gave him another beaming smile.

"You know something Gene?" I asked rhetorically. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." As soon as I was finished saying that, I heard a rapping on the window. I turned my head and looked out the window to see all of my friends standing there, waving.

At the very center of the crowd of my people was Symmetry, whose red hair was glowing and dress sewn back together. Not rats or Sycamore were in sight.

"We're still here, girl!" I heard sixty say and I stood up, walking towards the window. Carefully, I opened the panes of glass wide, letting it rain in on me as each of my friends returned to their rightful place in my mind. Soon their chatter was heard again in my brain as I closed the window and turned back to Gene.

"So, do you want to be friends?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I never actually had a girl for a friend before." He confessed and I just giggled as I sat down next to him.

"Lucky for you," I began, lightly punching his arm, "I'm no ordinary girl."

_**End of Book One**_


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